Broom Cupboard
by Zayz
Summary: LJ. Yes, this is another broom-cupboard fic to add to the long list...but this one is, for variety's sake, divided into short, disjointed chapters to capture that admittedly long evening in the cupboard. M for excessive and foul language. R&R?
1. Trapped

**A/N: Yes, there are hundreds of millions of trillions of these types of fics out there. I know that. But I couldn't resisting my own into the mix – they're just such fun!**

**This one is going to be different from the other ones you've read though, hopefully; it's going to be over the span of one night, but I'm going to break it up into a currently-indefinite number of short, drabble-esque chapters of different, disjointed conversations going on in that cupboard, as they come to me. This is just the introduction.**

**Takes place in the middle of sixth year, start of January kind of thing. Enjoy, and please do review!!**

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Broom cupboards were evil.

Very evil.

They were even more evil when there were equally evil Gryffindors around them that were more than happy to push people into them when they were passing by, completely by surprise and completely against their will.

At least, that was how Lily Evans saw it.

Most other people didn't mind broom cupboards. Most other people didn't even think about them. After all, there wasn't much one could really think about when it came to broom cupboards.

Oh, how mistaken the magical community was.

So here Lily was, sitting in the tiny, cramped six-foot-tall box that was this damned broom cupboard on the fourth floor, seething and trying not to blow her top, all courtesy of Marlene McKinnon.

She assumed James Potter would be joining her soon, seeing as she'd been trapped at the end of the second-to-last period of the day, and James always passed by this same broom cupboard at the end of the last period of the day. Marlene was utterly _obsessed _with getting the two of them together, and this was probably her not-so-subtle way of doing so.

Marly had tried pretty much every method of getting-together known to man by this point, so Lily couldn't be very surprised by the primitive, clumsy idea of trapping them in a broom cupboard.

It had to happen eventually, didn't it?

So she sat there, lying in wait until some unsuspecting bystander could open the godforsaken door and set her free eventually, and entertained herself by thinking of the punishments she would unleash upon Marly once she got out of here. She definitely had a few good plans in mind.

However, she had to stop short when she heard footsteps leading up to the door, a little more distinctive than the other ones carrying students across to their various sections of the castle. She poised herself, ready to jump out the nanosecond she was able to; this had be Marly with an unsuspecting James.

And sure enough –

BAM!

The door flew open, and Lily sprang up as promptly as a jack-in-the-box. With a high-pitched shriek that Lily knew belonged to Marlene, a thoroughly-confused, well-built figure that she could instinctively tell was James fell to the floor with a thud and the door slammed shut – far too quickly for her to run outside and pull all her friend's hair out.

Damn.

With an aggravated grunt, Lily tried to get a good look at James, who was sitting on the floor next to her, clearly far too big for the confined space, his glasses askew on his befuddled face.

"Wait, what?" he asked bewilderedly. "Who just pushed me? Who's in here with me? What the _fuck _is going on??"

"Control your tongue, Potter," Lily said dryly. "To answer your questions, it was Marlene McKinnon that pushed you, it's Lily Evans here with you, and this is Marly's brilliant new scheme to get me together with you."

While her tone was quieter and more composed (although still furious), his was completely the opposite as he told her wildly, "Sorry, but I still don't understand what the fuck is going on here!"

She sighed irately, too agitated to put up with his astonishment (she'd already dealt with hers a long time ago), so she decided to give him a shorter, easier explanation:

She leaned forward, and pulled a small sheet of parchment that had been Spellotaped to the door. By the chink of light still visible from there, James was able to read,

_Dear Lily and James when you get there,_

_Okay, I know you're going to murder me when this is over, but I had to give it a shot. You know I had to._

_Obviously, I pushed you both into a broom cupboard. And locked you in there. But trust me, this is for your own good._

_You really need to learn to get along – this being directed at Lily, of course. I think you two could be great friends, if you strip away all the distractions and shit that get in your way. So I, being Lily's guardian angel, have decided to help you by doing it for you. You're stuck in this closet until a few minutes before first period in the morning._

_Lily has a watch. I put things to eat in there earlier, and you'll be able to find that. Use your wands for light, I couldn't sneak any candles or anything in there, although it would've been utterly romantic if I could've. Maybe you can make some._

_Trust me, this is going to work out __great__!_

_Marly_

When he looked back up at what he could still see of the incensed, red-haired girl whose face was just inches from his, his apprehensive, although somewhat amused and intrigued hazel eyes locked in with her carefully-controlled emerald one, and the notion found in them both was mutual:

Merlin, this was going to be one hell of a night.


	2. Seventeen Hours

**A/N: Now, the "chapters" in this story are going to be really short, and will feel incomplete. But remember – that's the point. This is a highly awkward situation, and this is my way of showing you how I perceive it; so enjoy, and don't tell me the chapters are too short, and I won't need to include any annoying Author's Notes every time!**

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"So…what do you propose we do now?"

James posed this question for the first time after about a half hour of being locked in the broom cupboard. Odd though it was, but he hadn't been able to think of a single thing to say until that point – this situation was, simply put, pretty fucked up.

It was surreal beyond anything else he'd ever experienced in his six plus years with Lily; a _broom cupboard_? For an entire _night_? What was he supposed to say to that?!

The truth of the matter was that lately, James didn't talk to Lily much. After fifth year, he hadn't been too keen to speak to her, if he allowed himself to be honest. For the past few months, he'd been as calm as he could be with her, only conversing with her if she approached him first, saying only as much as he had to.

The balance had been working out rather well; they were civil to one another for the first time in anyone's memory, and they kept their distance.

Well, except for Marly's occasional attempts at throwing them together, but those didn't count, because they always failed.

Until now.

So being here was really not something James was happy with, and it was more than obvious that Lily was practically foaming at the mouth because of it, although she was surprisingly passive about it.

They'd been sitting there for a half an hour, cramped together in a space so small that their very breaths mingled in the still, stuffy air, and yet they only said their first words after thirty minutes of it. It was just a bit short of maddening.

It took a long while for James's words to process in Lily's ears; she had to look up and really study him for a moment, trying to comprehend his question and select an appropriate response.

However, when she did, it was very short, her throat hoarse from disuse: "I propose we sit, wait, and endure the next few hours."

James looked skeptically at her. "For about twelve hours, you expect me to sit here in silence?"

"No," she said. "It's three-thirty in the afternoon, and Marly is going to let us out at eight in the morning; it's about seventeen hours that we're going to be here."

James's head promptly banged back into the wall behind him with a groan. "Lily, I am incapable of enduring seventeen hours without moving. Sorry. This place is so damn _tiny_; couldn't Marly have picked a cupboard bigger than this one to trap us in?"

Lily had to work quite hard to restrain her snort. "I'll let her know next time."

James looked irately at her, and sighed. "Lily, really; you're stuck here with me for seventeen hours, to your count."

"So?"

"So…" James fumbled for the words, which suddenly sounded very silly to him in his head. Swearing under his breath, he rumpled his hair, and muttered, "Never mind."

"See? You'll be fine, sitting here with me in silence," Lily said, her tone catty even to her own ears. "And the countdown begins…seventeen hours left to go."

James sighed for the second time, the short exhale of breath fleeting and utterly unsatisfied. "Fuck."


	3. Unwarranted Swearing

"So…Evans, what's the time?"

The question was spoken tentatively – Lily was in the process of quietly banging her head back against the wall, her eyes appearing to be squeezed shut by the limited light shining on her face. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to interrupt.

But, when these words were out in the open, and made their way into Lily's ears, she sighed and glanced down at the watch on her wrist.

"It's three fifty-two," she told him.

"It's only been twenty minutes?" James almost howled. "_Fuck_!"

Lily threw him a filthy, reproachful look. "What is it with you and swearing, James Potter? You've said the word 'fuck' about eighty-five times since we've been here."

"I have not," he protested. "I only said it four or five times."

Lily shook her head. "I'm almost positive it was more."

"I'm absolutely positive it was not," he countered.

The silence after his statement was rather cool, and seemed to suggest that Lily had grimaced and resumed her activity of banging her head against the wall once more. This amused James; despite not knowing her very well anymore because of their newly-found distance, the Lily in this broom cupboard was just the same as the Lily he rowed with when they were twelve years old.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He couldn't be sure.

But, this silence was a little too awkward for his liking – he had to say _something_, so that it wasn't so uncomfortable, and then he swore to himself he'd be quiet. Then maybe Lily wouldn't kill him when they got out of the cupboard.

"Erm, the reason I swore so much, Evans, was because when I'm nervous, my gutter-language usually finds its way out," he admitted.

Lily's eyes open and she looked curiously at him – how odd.

"You're _nervous _about being here?" she asked incredulously. "Of all the things you could be – angry, upset, claustrophobic – you're _nervous_?"

James nodded, a bit taken-aback by her disbelief. "I'm in a broom cupboard the size of a shoe-box with an extremely pissed-off Lily Evans; that's enough to make anyone nervous."

This shut her up, even though his remark was said without (much) offensiveness. The silence was even more awkward than before by this point, because Lily was rather embarrassed and was musing about the situation, and because James was also rather embarrassed and was musing on why this could possibly offend her.

He didn't want to offend her – if he did, it would make tonight even more painful, and already, he would take Chinese water torture over this.

"Fuck," he said aloud after a few minutes of getting nowhere with his predicament.

"What are you nervous about this time, Potter?"

"Never mind."


	4. Uncooperative Limbs

They had been in this bloody broom cupboard for what felt like years.

James was feeling restless, as he sat there, with his leg muscles whining at the prospect of staying this scrunched up for this amount of time. He was used to bouncing about with friends, playing Quidditch, racing people down the corridors – sitting in a broom cupboard was one of the last things he would want to do.

And then, to make matters even better, his left leg fell asleep.

Damn; what was he supposed to do now? He barely had enough space to breathe, let alone walk around and wake his leg up.

He made a rather ugly face as he tried to shift in his position – stretch out into the shelves in front of him that were filled with cleaning solutions and brooms. This made quite a lot of noise – and Lily, who had been almost dozing off in her corner of the cupboard, began to stir when things began to fall with loud clatters to the floor.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hoping she sounded awake and alive.

"Clearly, I'm making a mess," James said, scowling.

"No, I mean, _why _are you doing that?"

"My leg is asleep," he told her. "I'm trying to wake it up, or it's going to drive me bloody bananas!"

Lily raised her eyebrows, and watched him continue to struggle and swear softly to himself as he did so. He was in agony – he hated it when this happened to him. It was too aggravating for him to handle; falling from devastating heights when riding on a broomstick, fine, he'd take it, but when it came to tingles in his limbs, that was where he drew the line.

He gave a particularly vicious kick to the shelf with his bad leg, and a bottle of solution managed to fall directly on his head, making Lily giggle from next to him. Thankfully, the material it was made from was thick enough to not spill its contents over him, but it still hurt.

Making another ugly face, James took the bottle and chucked it at the wall.

Lily watched it bounce against the toughened stone, and settle back on the ground. "My, my, you don't have to take your anger out on the poor, innocent cleaning supplies," she said, grinning sarcastically at him.

"Not funny," James muttered, now resorting to poking his calves in the hope that it would help.

"Sure." Lily snorted, but went back to her previous position, and shut her eyes again.

James, on the other hand, poked his leg to no avail before simply giving up and trying to shut his eyes as well, taking a leaf from Lily's book.

Stupid, boring, too-small broom cupboard.


	5. Precious Secrets

**A/N: All right, look – your reviews plainly don't trust me when it comes to pacing/technicalities, so I want to say that yes, ****I've got things under control****. I'll get things answered, just give me time. The secrets will come with time.**** That's the point this story is trying to make. We're on chapter 5 now – please keep your knickers on, lol.**

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According to Lily's watch, it had been about another half hour since James's foot had fallen asleep (he'd asked her, although he kept his tongue censored this time), and still, it remained as it was.

It was refusing to cooperate, no matter how many times James poked it. It was insanity - clearly, his body was out to get him at the moment, just like the rest of the world. This was becoming even more exceedingly surreal as time passed, and he was truly starting to get tired of being in this stupid broom cupboard.

Finally, he managed to stand up (with considerable effort) and began stomping his foot on the ground, in an attempt to both attract people with the noise and to awaken his sleeping leg.

However, the only bad part about this was that instead of awakening his leg, he awakened the lightly-slumbering red-head beside him, much to her disapproval.

"Potter, _what _are you doing?" she asked with a yawn, looking disdainfully up at him.

"Trying to wake up my leg," he said through gritted teeth. "You know what? I've had it with this damn cupboard – I'm just going to blast my way out of here."

"You can't," Lily said gloomily, leaning her head back against the corner where the two shelves on the wall met. "I've tried – Marly did her homework for once, and put all kinds of charms on the doors. No one can hear us, we're locked in with a charm I don't know the counter-curse for, and Marly is the only one who can help us. And she'll only be here in the morning. If there was a way out, trust me when I say I would've found it by now."

James exhaled in utter frustration, leaning against the unrelenting door and blowing his hair out of his face. His face was set in a scowl as he pulled his wand out anyway, and lit the previously-fallen bottle of cleaning solution on fire inside a bucket to make some sort of a candle.

The little chinks of light that had kept them going previously were starting to dwindle as lights were dimmed in the castle; and besides, he needed something to do.

He put his new bucket-candle between the two of them, and the light played on both of their faces as they looked to one another – Lily's expression passively irate, James's outwardly irate.

He stared at her for a few moments, taking in this angle of light and this hostility in her eyes, and she stared back, intrigued by the frustration in _his _eyes. Neither of them could explain their interest in the other person, nor did they want to even if they could. This was still too awkward for them to deal with, and they were both too proud to comply with anything the other said.

That was how being sixteen worked – adult thoughts always hit the mind, but childish actions always seemed to win out anyway. It wasn't until seventeen when all the adult instincts finally coordinated together.

The ambiance swirling around the tiny broom cupboard was curious, nonchalantly aggravated, and completely typical for the two of them; Lily was considering saying something, anything, that would help it along, when –

"Argh!" With a final (and very loud) grunt of frustration, James slammed his foot on the ground one last time and gave up his endeavor altogether, and simply sat there, glaring petulantly at his woefully irresponsive leg. "I'm _done _here."

Lily couldn't help it – he'd lightened the atmosphere so strangely that she simply _had _to snort wryly and ask, "Potter, do you need some help with that?"

He looked pathetically at her. "You know, I think I do."

She smiled slightly at him, tucking her hair behind her ears like she always did when she was embarrassed; then she pulled out her wand. Placing it lightly on his thigh, she said a nonverbal spell and all of a sudden, a shot of warmth began coursing through his leg, mingling with the original pins and needles already present. The sensation lasted only a few moments before it subsided completely into the welcome state of normality so missed for the past hour or so.

Needless to say, James was utterly in awe.

"What did you just _do_?" he inquired.

Lily shrugged modestly, her cheeks flaming. "A spell Alice's mum taught me last summer," she said. "I drove them all mad when my leg fell asleep."

"It's useful," he said. "What is it?"

Her smile started to go a bit more towards the playful side as she said, "It's a Prewitt-Evans secret, I'm afraid. I'm not allowed to share it."

James jutted out his lower lip. "Fine, _be _that way."

Lily smirked. "Maybe I will."

Surprising them both, James laughed his usual boom of a laugh and brushed his hand by her arm, his fingers making the smallest contact with her skin. The gesture was mutual between him and his Marauders, so it certainly wasn't anything new; yet, when he so instinctively did it now, with her, it instantly felt both strikingly _right_, but perversely _wrong_.

Was this normal?

The lightning bolt that passed between them plainly did not go unnoticed, as he watched her tentatively; Lily shifted significantly and blinked for a split second too long before hastily rearranging her features into a smile and saying, "So…I'm going to keep it a secret, yeah?"

James could only stutter as he managed to say, "Erm…y-yeah. Okay."


	6. Conversation at Last!

**A/N: Now, with me, I'm a freak about pace; and although I love awkwardness at the beginning, I think it's time to slowly start to shift towards more honesty...so, that's the purpose of this chapter. But never fear! Awkwardness will still prevail throughout, until I decide it shouldn't, lol. So enjoy!**

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It was about four-thirty in the afternoon when James finally lost it completely with the situation.

He had been sitting there for a full hour now – _a full hour_. Sixty minutes, that was! An hour had gone by, and yet, there was _nothing _happening in that broom cupboard.

Zilch. Nada. Goose-egg. Absolutely _nothing_.

He hadn't expected a miracle to occur or anything, but a good, honest conversation or two with Lily might be a nice thing, after being quiet so long in a space this diminutive. Was it that much to wish for? He didn't think so.

So, after watching her take another nap for a minute or two, James cleared his throat. "So…" he said, "how long do you want to continue not-talking?"

Lily's eyes fluttered open. "What?" she inquired.

"I asked you, how long do you want to continue not-talk to me?" he repeated. "Lily, it's been an hour and we've barely said fifty words to each other."

"I'm sure we've said more than that," she argued.

He gave her that Lookof his. "Lily."

She seemed to deflate before his very eyes, her expression slightly guilty. "Okay, I know what you mean," she said. "But…I dunno, there's just really nothing I want to say."

"You know that's not true," he said. "There's plenty to say."

"Like what?"

James considered. "Like…where do you think the Marauders are? What are they doing? Were they in on this little plan of Marly's?"

"Probably," Lily said gloomily. "They're all in a league trying to promote the idea of me falling like some damsel into your arms and marrying you and having twenty five children with you. It's pathetic."

"Having children with me is pathetic?" James pouted. "How very rude of you to suggest such a thing. A woman one day will have children with me, and they'll be damn amazing children. You watch."

She gave him a reluctant half-smile. "No, I just meant…oh, never mind."

"No, what were you going to say?" He sounded more eager than he should, but this was real conversation they were making! He jumped on the opportunity of even making some trifling small talk at once, and his fervor made her smile unwillingly.

"All right," she gave in. "I was going to say…that woman will obviously be the right one for you, and you'll love each other like good couples do, but it simply won't be me. You're not my type."

"You say that a lot," James noted. "Almost every time I used to ask you out, back in fourth and fifth year."

"Well, because it's true," she said, her emerald eyes very, very serious as they probed his hazel ones. "I'm not going to fall for you just because my friends and your friends say I should. Forcing love…you can't _do _that, you know? Marly can lock us in all the broom cupboards she wants, but that's never going to make me moon over you the way she wants me to."

James mused on this for a moment, and presently said, "Maybe you're right…but Evans, sometimes a couple _needs _that little push you hate. Sometimes, when things are meant to be, they can't find each other until they get a little outside help, you know what I mean? It happens in molecular biology all the time – catalysts, that's what they're called."

Lily could only stare at him. "How did you know that?"

He gave her his famous charismatic, mysterious sort of smile. "I have my ways."

She smirked, but laid her head back and stared at the ceiling, her expression pensive. "But either way, Potter," she said, "I don't like being made to do something I don't feel ready to do myself. Push me, and you'll end up pushing me off a cliff rather than towards the finish line. I just…I can't do it. I can't trust other people to make important decisions _for _me."

He longed to scoot a little to his left and stroke her hair, or her cheek, or her nose, or any part of her, really, but he knew she would freak if he did; so, instead, he said gently, to match the sudden vulnerability of the atmosphere she'd created, "I think you should…trust other people, I mean. Sometimes…well, sometimes, your friends know you better than you know yourself."

Lily stared at him again; but this time, her eyes were more inquiring than astonished. "That was rather profound," she said quietly.

He shrugged, grinning slightly. "I've been known to come up with a brainwave once in a while."

Her grin was as furtive as his, but her eyes remained averted to the ground. "You are," she said, so nearly inaudibly that he had to really listen to catch her words, despite being countable inches away from her, "and that's why you…astound me sometimes."

Her tone was dreamlike, as though she wasn't thinking about what she was saying. James, intrigued by the sudden change, asked, "I astound you?"

This woke her up, and now, her eyes surveyed him as though she had never seen anyone else like him before – which, in a way, she hadn't. "Maybe," she said defensively.

His responding laugh was soft. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you astound me too. Every day."

She bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear, swallowing thickly, and her eyes were careful as they sought after and met his. In truth, she hadn't intended to have this conversation with him – it was rather out-of-place, considering the emptiness of the past hour they'd been together – but at the same time, she liked it.

She liked to hear him speak to her with that way of his – that way of making her feel like she was the only one who would ever matter to him, that way of making her wonder if she was the only addressee to the tenderness he occasionally displayed.

So, it was with awfully hesitant daring that she opened her mouth and said, extremely slowly, "If I astound you…and you astound me…and we astound each other…how about we play an astounding game of truth, right now? To pass the time, obviously."

Well! This was appropriately earth-shattering and miraculous; much more than he'd expected anyway. But, then again, _she _was always more than what he expected; so he smiled mischievously, and said, "I'm game."


	7. Rules & Regulations

**A/N: Wow, long chapter! Haha, I don't know if this will be the length for all of them, but it very well might be…we'll see…**

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"I want the first question," James declared.

"No," Lily snapped. "_I _want the first question. It was my idea to play this game anyway; shouldn't _I_ get the first question?"

"Of course you shouldn't!" he said. "I want it because I'm the man of this cupboard, dammit; I am entitled to my _rights _here."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "What ever happened to the 'ladies first' rule?"

He snorted. "You tell me yourself, almost daily, that I've never been one to care much about the rules."

"Well, seeing as I am the genius-woman behind the idea for this game, I feel I should go first," she said with an air of definitiveness.

James flashed a grin. "So…are you really that curious to know something about me, Lily Evans? Wow – I never knew I was that interesting."

Immediately, Lily coloured deeply, and mumbled after a solid minute of tentative silence, "Oh all right, you can go first."

"Excellent." James grinned again, winked at her, and settled into his part of the cupboard with a thoughtful air about him – he had to think hard about his first question. And he did, taking his time with the opening question.

It was very important to get that obstacle of a first-inquiry down well; if he was too trivial, he would never get anywhere relationship-wise with the girl waiting next to him. However, if he was too deep to start out with, he would scare her, and she wouldn't want to play the game anymore – which would be bad.

Obviously, this was a very delicate business he was dealing with; and very delicate business should never be rushed.

The unfortunate thing, though, was that after about three minutes of waiting for a proper response from James, Lily got aggravated and told him, "If you don't give me a question _right about now_, I insist upon going first. I already know what I want to ask you."

James shot her a filthy look – did she always have to tread on his toes when he was on the verge of leaping into the pool of intelligent thought? It was so unfair. But, then again, this was very delicate business, as aforementioned – he didn't want to be the one to screw it up. If _she _was, it would be over _her _head, so maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

So, deciding to be both complying and self-protective, James gave her another pout to humor her and said, "Okay then…_you _can go first."

Lily's smile grew wide. "Thank you, Potter," she said.

"Call me James," he suddenly said, just as she opened her mouth to speak again. His remark caught her by surprise.

"What do you mean, 'call you James'?" she wanted to know.

"I dunno," he said truthfully. "It's just that...well, I usually call you Evans or sometimes Lily, but you always call me Potter. It's so impersonal. Call me by my first name."

Lily blinked in surprise; not many people called him by his first name. It was only ever his Marauders, because nobody else bothered with first names besides her. It was actually something of an honor – sometimes, even the Marauders had to stick with calling him Potter.

"Really?" she asked him, simply because she had nothing else she could say on the matter at that particular moment.

"Yeah," said James. "But go on – I'm highly excited for your so-important question." The last part of his statement invoked a look of sweet mischievousness to his face and eyes, as he teased her lightly, and locked his gaze in with her to ensure she didn't waver.

"Fine," she said curtly. "_Fine._" She cleared her throat, preparing herself, and kept her eyes on his as she asked him, "So, _James_, my first question is this…"

"No, no, no, no, wait," James interrupted her abruptly. "I think we ought to have rules for this game."

"What are you talking about?" she inquired, annoyed. "It's a game of truth; we don't need rules."

"Of course we do!" he insisted.

"You just said you don't follow rules," she pointed out.

"Yeah, _unimportant _rules," he clarified. "These are definitely important rules, wouldn't you say, Lily? I'm going to follow these."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay…whatever floats your Titanic of a boat…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" James asked interestedly.

"Nothing – it was only a remark about how your boat is enormous, lavish, and incapable of being properly pleased, therefore making it difficult to float," Lily said airily.

James shot her a look. "And that provides a brilliant segway into the first rule I think we should have – no undeserving slights on the other person's character. Only when they say something truly and undeniably stupid do you get to do that."

"Well, that _was _truly and undeniably stupid, your suggestion for making up rules for a game of truth," Lily said. "It's a really straight-forward game – as the title suggests, you tell the truth."

"Yeah, but there are technicalities," James persisted. "Like…like the easiest one, lying when you say you're not."

"As you've said to me, you've got to trust others," Lily reminded him.

"I know, but those are definitely the first three rules," James said. "Tell the truth, trust the other person is, and no baseless assaults on personalities. Are you good with those?"

"I think I am," she said, bored. "Are you done now? Can I ask you my brilliant first question yet?"

"No, you may not," James said triumphantly. "I also think we should _not _be allowed to make up rules as we go – that's stupid."

"Okay," she said in a monotone, clearly realizing there was more she would have to put up with before she could proceed.

"Lovely to see your enthusiasm," he said with a wink. "But I have more rules."

"My, my, for someone who hates rules so much, you certainly like to apply them," she said dryly.

"These are really only because of you, to be frank," James said. "I'm binding you here; you've got to be better about the openness deal with me. I intend to dig pretty deep."

Suddenly, her eyes were wary. "How deep?"

"As deep as I can," he said. "I have plenty of time to worm things out of you, so I'm guessing pretty deep. This is a game of truth, Lily, and we are in this dumpy little broom cupboard until morning; there's not much else we can do."

"We can catch up on our sleep," she suggested.

"That's boring," James said dismissively with a flourish of his wrist. "So let me tell you my last few rules, and we can play, all right?"

"Hurry," was her only response.

"Okay," James said, business-like. "My other rules are these – you can't press on any questions about really intimate things. You can ask, but if the other person doesn't want to answer it, don't make them feel bad, you know?"

"I like that," she said. "So if you ask me about any of the boys I've dated, I'm using that rule."

James smirked. "That brings me to my next rule – _don't misuse the rules_. If you use them to avoid a subject you feel tender on, it's not right. Like you said, it's in the title; you have to tell the truth. Elaborations from there depend on the question."

"Any more rules?" she asked, after a thoughtful nod.

He considered. "I think I might have had one or two that I can't recall at this particular moment in time, but if I think of them, I'll let you know."

"That's against your already-existing rule – no making up rules as you go," she said, her smile teasing.

"I'm not going to be making them up as I go," James said, offended. "They'll come to me, I know they will, and when they do, I'll reveal them. I'm telling you right now, they'll hit me, so that you don't use my own rule against me."

"Yeah, yeah, all right," Lily said. "_Now _can I ask my question?"

"Sure," he said. "But I must say…"

"Here we go again," she groaned.

"No, no, hear me out," James said, his grin wicked. "I just find it very…ah…_amusing _that you are so impatient to get this question out there. I didn't know my answer, or anything to do with me, was that interesting to you at all. You always claim I'm vapid and unintelligent, don't you?"

Lily blushed. "It's not _you_…it's mostly because it's pertinent to, well, everything…oh, you'll see why it's important if you'll bloody let me ask it."

His grin was still the same, if not a tad more mischievous as he said, "All right, Evans, all right…whatever you say…or rather, whatever floats _your _Titanic of a boat…"

She made a face at him, grimacing. "You toad, Potter."

"James," James corrected in his most annoying sing-song voice.

"Whatever," she grumbled. "Now here's what I'm thinking…"


	8. First Question

**A/N: Lol did you enjoy that cliffie?? I know I did! But I'd start getting used to those; I'm going to be using them more and more as the story moves along, to add tension. The compensation would be that I update pretty quickly, so keep that in mind. Now, this chapter's long too because I always write too much, so brace yourself!**

* * *

"Okay," Lily said. "My first question is this – how do you feel about being in this closet with me? _Truthfully_, without any kind of mental-editing?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "_That _was your vital question that meant everything? _That _was why you kept interrupting my brilliant lecture on rules? To ask me how I feel about being in a broom cupboard with you?"

"Yes," Lily defended herself, giving him her famous would-be-bold look that she put on when she wanted to stand up for herself but was a little unsure about how to. "It's an important question to me."

"_Why_?" James wanted to know.

"Well, before, you mentioned how you always swear when you get nervous, and you also mentioned how being in a cupboard with me was nerve-wracking," Lily said, "so it's only fair to want to know what you really think of me. Without edits, as aforementioned."

James heaved a sigh, but gave in by saying, "Fair enough…I suppose now I'll have to think of something meaningful and poetic to tell you – which is a problem because neither of those are easy for me under pressure…"

She snorted, but watched him closely as he thought about the best way to phrase his viewpoint. "Okay, I think I got something," he said after about two minutes of honest-to-goodness thought.

"Oh good," she said, her tone sarcastic but her eyes anxious as he surveyed the pale pallet of emotions in her face.

He cleared this throat, and began thoughtfully, "Well…you do make me nervous, Lil, but that's mostly because I don't want to screw up for you, you know? By nature, I suppose I'm something of a goofball, but you don't like goofballs – so I'm nervous because I don't know what part of me you'll find annoying moment to moment. And it's no fun at all when you, this girl I've known forever, don't…you know…"

Here he trailed off, the trail he had been following in his mind suddenly sounding very meaningless and non-poetic. "Shit," he said in a low voice, running his hand quickly through his charcoal locks, again and again. "Shit, shit, shit…"

For a moment, Lily honestly thought she was going to instinctively scoot towards him and put her hand on his arm, tilt his chin up with her index finger, stroke his cheek – basically make any kind of physical contact with him – but she stopped herself when she was about to actually make the move.

Typical behavior for her, really.

But, she knew she couldn't simply leave him in this state of vulnerability, because that was too unkind for her to handle – even though he was him, and she was her. So she said, as tenderly as she could, "No, no, you were doing fine."

His response was simple – leaning his head back to bang it against the wall and audibly muttering, "Fuck."

Lily clicked her tongue in that way of hers, suddenly nervous herself, and racked her brains to think of something appropriate to say. There really wasn't anything she could think of – all her remedies, which she usually used around her friends, centered around touching him in some way, shape, or form.

And that wasn't allowed. At least, not yet.

To balance the very complicated situation, she suggested quietly, "If you don't want to play truth, you don't have to."

His head came back down from the wall, and he looked strangely at her. "It was only an awkward question," he said. "We can still play if you want to."

"Well, if it makes you awkward, then maybe I don't want to play," Lily said.

"If you don't want to play, then I don't want to play," he said back. "It's as easy as that."

"So do you not want to play?"

"Do _you_ want to play?"

"I want to play if you want to play."

"_I _want to play if_ you _want to play."

"But I'm asking you – do you want to play, Pot- James?"

"And I'm asking you back – do _you _want to play, Lily?"

She let out a grunt of frustration. "You're impossible," she said irritably. "It was a simple inquiry – all you had to do was say yes, I want to play, or no, I don't want to play anymore."

"I could say the same back to you," he shot back. In all candor, he was only combative because her question had caught him off-guard, he'd had nothing he cared to say, and he felt like she had some sort of victory over him because of his incapability of answering her question. But, since she hadn't asked about it, nothing was going to make him tell her voluntarily.

However, Lily, oblivious to the quickly-paced line of reasoning in the mind of the black-haired boy near her, rapidly felt her sensitivity towards him evaporate on the spot. "You are _horrible_," she presently accused him. "Truly and completely."

"Oh, because you're some kind of a saint, are you?" he countered, stung by the abrupt insult. "We were almost getting along here – at least, until now."

"And whose fault is that?" Lily snapped. "You're the one who started _trying _my patience with you."

"_Me_?" James let out a short bark of a laugh. "Lily dear, I'd suggest you think back a few minutes, and consider your own actions here."

"What do you mean?"

"This," James said. "Let's think – so first, _you _were the one who wanted to play a game of truth. Then, _you _fought for the rights over the first question. And, when you got to ask that question, _you _pressured me into a shitty answer and tried to lord it over me by saying I didn't have to play!"

"Excuse me?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Your shitty answer was _my _fault?"

"Yes," he decided at once. "It was."

"It wasn't!" she almost shouted at him, startling them both with her might. "_You're _the one who psyches yourself out when you're supposedly under-pressure, not me! _I _never need to make a fool out of you, Potter, because like most men, that's one of the few things you can actually do yourself!"

The silence rung horribly in the broom cupboard when these words spilled out of her mouth, fueled by the heat and tension of the moment. She only realized how cruel they were once they'd already been spoken and heard, and she almost cursed herself as she saw the undeniable hurt flame in his impassioned eyes.

Almost.

He swallowed thickly, feeling like she'd socked him in the stomach with a lead block, but acidly hissed at her, "And again, she lords herself over me, as if she's some heaven-sent piece of work descended upon me to make me feel like a damn pariah."

"What _is _it with you and thinking I'm lording something over you?" she wanted to know at once, her face turning pink like it always did when she was furious. "I'm not lording anything over you!"

"You are," he insisted. "You think you're better than me, do you? Like I can't handle anything, because I'm just stupid little James Potter, fucking things up left, right, and center; like I need your help with every goddamn thing that holds me up for even a split-second. Well, here's a bit of news for you – _I'm fine_."

Now, she couldn't take his insolence – he'd pushed her enough. Livid, she rose fluidly to her feet so she could properly put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "I can't believe you are making such a big fucking deal out of this," she hollered at him. "You take everything the wrong way! You are being such a _child_!"

He rose to his feet as well, his full man-height much greater than hers, making his stance a bit more impressive, although she wasn't far behind. "_I'm _making a big deal? You're the one who didn't answer my yes-or-no question!"

"You didn't answer _mine_," she reminded him.

"Because clearly, you were trying to make me look weak! I had a right to defend myself!"

"You think I was trying to make you look _weak_?" She laughed, loudly and bitterly, before saying, "Oh, that's a good one, Potter. As if I want to make you look weak – like I said, you're more of the do-it-yourself type on that front. You're doing it right now, as you argue with me; because the reason I asked you if you wanted to stop playing was because I felt fucking _sorry _that I put you in a rough patch. And if you'd been big enough to realize that, then maybe we wouldn't have had this conversation."

Another silence took over here, but this one was different – raw, considering, shocked. Needless to say, James felt like a bit of an idiot, and Lily felt quite incensed. But, being the stubborn person he was, he still felt the need to say, "Well, you're the one who called me horrible for giving your own questions, that you never answered, back at you."

"Because you are," she said acerbically, her hands on her hips, "and if I could, I would storm out of this cupboard _right now. _You are a right arse, James Potter."

"Yes, because you're the queen of everything, aren't you, Evans?" he said, his tone matching hers. "And you accuse _me _of being arrogant; you're probably more arrogant than me and Sirius put together on our worst days – because at least we can openly admit that it's a bit of a character-flaw, but you, you feel it all in secret and deny everything. Face it; you think you're better than me, but putting it like that wouldn't go with your prissy image, which is why you pretend like it isn't there."

This hurt her – it hurt her badly. It somehow managed to wound her all the way through, it tore irreparable holes into her, and suddenly, she wanted to both burst into tears and beat the bloody hell out of him. She had an inkling of why she wanted that, but she wasn't ready to explore it. Not now, anyway.

So, she decided to simply stalk two steps back to the farthest corner of the cupboard, saying, "I hate you. I'm not speaking to you."

"Good, don't," he said tauntingly back at her, stalking two steps over to his own corner.

They both settled into their respective places, emotionally-injured and extremely petulant, and the silence this time was very nearly unbearable – both longed to break it somehow, but dignity had been the topic of the dispute, so keeping it felt vital at that moment, even if it still felt wrong anyway.

Blowing a strand of her hair noiselessly out of her face, Lily's stormy eyes checked her watch. It said the time was two past five in the afternoon. They hadn't been in the cupboard for two hours, and already, they'd had a pretty bad spat.

She laid her head back in her corner, shaking slightly with her antipathy and exasperation, savagely wishing she could set his hair on fire with the candle still next to her.

And, despite her disinclination to care at all about him, she couldn't help but use his oh-so-eloquent wording and say in her head, "Fuck."


	9. Staring Uncreepily

**A/N: Edited slightly as of May 27th, 2008.**

* * *

She had been staring at him from the moment he turned his head away.

It wasn't the weird, creepy, stalker kind of staring though – it was more of the intricately-studying sort of staring. She was analyzing his face, essentially.

Sure, it _sounded _weird, creepy, and stalker-esque, but it really wasn't. She was just bored, and he was the only thing she had to look at. She couldn't be blamed.

He had an…_interesting _face, she thought as she continued to stare steadily at him. His high, basically flawless cheekbones were sharp and obvious behind the peachy flesh of his face – models would die for them, as would half of Hogwarts' female population. His jaw was well-developed, prominent and smoother than porcelain, and was the fantasy of most young women's fingers to stroke.

Yet, despite the angles so apparent on and around his features, he still had this beautiful naivety that came up when he smiled – this babyish innocence to his eyes, this childishness to his full cheeks, this softness to his dimples. He was so inadvertent, yet everything about him had a purpose, a meaning, a secret to be gently unraveled and mercilessly pondered. He was truly a fascinating creature.

She would never admit it, not even under torture, but he _was _fascinating. Not a lot – just sort of. Only when she took the time to look and ponder without Alice Prewitt insisting he looked like a Greek god, or Marly hissing flirtation tips she was never going to use into her ear.

That couldn't be a sin. It was only a guilty pleasure – a tactful note made and stored in the back of her mind where she would never revisit it again, that was all. She had always been (in)famous for her unnerving observation; this was simply another one of them.

Wasn't it?

Lily sighed, deciding to push the thought out of her brain before it aged and grew poisonous, and checked her watch for the fifth time in two minutes, tucking her unruly hair behind her ear.

Five twenty-four.

Brilliant – she only had fourteen hours and thirty-six minutes left before she was finally out of this damned broom cupboard and out into the real world, with fresh air and trees and people that _weren't _James Potter.

And she was definitely counting down the seconds until that point.


	10. Dying Slowly

**A/N: I promise, I promise, she'll talk to him in the next chapter. One last filler before I'm satisfied, lol.**

* * *

She was dying.

Okay, so she wasn't really, but she might as well have been, for what she felt.

It was five fifty-eight, and there was still _not a single word coming out of James's mouth_.

_Five fifty-eight_!

_Nobody_ could go that long without talking, let alone James Potter. How was he doing it? She longed to ask him – for later reference, because she was sure they would fight again. Maybe if he wanted to play truth at a later time, that would be her question.

She could just imagine it – her asking, completely matter-of-factly, "So James, how do you endure long silences in a broom cupboard with a girl you've loved since you were eleven years old after you've fought with her?"

It was too hideous to even picture.

She groaned to herself; she knew someone would have to give in soon. It was inevitable. Someone always had to give up in an argument. It was only a matter of who it would be. For them, it was either her, Lily, or him, James.

Normally, she would make sure it was James that cracked first, but this was not a normal situation; she was almost certain right then that it would be her, because she honestly couldn't stand this.

She was antsy; she was frustrated; she was tired; she was a bit lonely.

She wanted to talk to someone, and he was her only option. She wasn't used to spending this much time without using her voice.

She opened her mouth, experimenting with some conversation-starters in her mind, but none of them sounded right to her.

She longed to yell at him – scream at him, shake his shoulders, _make _him be the insolent arse she had hated for years and years.

But she couldn't do that.

So, instead, she slid a little further in her seated position, began braiding/unbraiding a thick strand of her thick red hair, and all the while, thought, 'I'm so screwed, I'm so screwed, I'm so screwed.'

What a night this was going to be.


	11. Law of the Idiot

**A/N: Yes, yes, I promise we'll have more conversation now from this point on. Geez, you all are so pushy **– **be patient!! All in good time, loves, all in good time.**

* * *

Admittedly, this was torture for him.

Yes, it was. He'd said it to himself, admitted it in the privacy of his own mind:

It was bloody torture not talking to Lily Evans when she was _right there_.

It was as though his body and mind didn't understand what a situation this was. He had liberty to do virtually anything here – engage her in conversation she had no choice but to continue with, learn more about her, probe through her, as he'd been itching to do for years.

So why wasn't he taking advantage of this, as he should be?

The answer was simple, but very shameful – it was his pride.

Yes, his pride; the thing Lily had always warned him would be the death of him.

Could he pick up his pride, then, and talk to her?

He thought on it, and the answer was instant – for _her, _yes, he could, if he tried hard enough.

That made the answer to his predicament rather simple; just _talk _to the girl, and pray to all gods known and unknown that she would talk back, though in a nice way rather than the snappish way she usually liked to use.

But was it that simple when he was in the situation?

No, it certainly was not not.

Damn. Planning out conversations with girls was such hard work.

The trick was not to think about it, he subconsciously knew – if he just _said _something, and continued with it even when he felt stupid, it would probably work out. Sirius had a theory about this kind of a phenomenon – he called it the Law of the Idiot.

This was how he put it: idiots only survive in this world because they didn't think, they just _did _things. They either turn out to trust their hidden genius-instincts and work it out, or they use the element of surprise and slip through with something utterly retarded because nobody expected them to be that stupid.

So if he used the Law of the Idiot, maybe he would say something right and siphon information out of her, or astonish Lily with his daring and siphon information out of her anyway.

The second option was more likely, but he was willing to try – that was idiots always did, anyway, and being friends with several in Gryffindor house had given him plenty of faith in them.

And Lily wasn't allowed to commit murder in the cupboard, because if she did, she wouldn't be able to get the Head Girl position she wanted. That meant that technically, he was safe.

So, keeping all this in mind, James cleared his throat, and as he was apologizing, he was utterly flabbergasted to find that Lily said exactly the same thing at exactly the same second he did. It was like something out of a really, really bad Muggle television programme.

The result was this abrupt explosion into a very desperate-sounding "I'm so sorry" done in such impressive synch that an eyewitness could swear it was pre-planned.

And, because they were so startled by the other's reaction, they could only stare once the words escaped their lips; it was justified, too, because after such a long time not speaking, it was a little startling to find that both parties wanted to make up at the same moment in time. The odds were a million to one, yet the one still managed to win out, in their case.

Lily blushed a deep red, her cheeks as warm as the last burning logs in the common room fire, and shyly said, "You can go first."

"Erm, no, it's all right, you can go first," James said, just as awkwardly, blushing the faintest bit more than she was.

"Fine." That worked out better, really; she could be the bigger person here, and get her feelings off her chest for James to make of them what he wanted. So, keeping herself as intact as she could allow, she cleared her throat and carefully stated, "I'm sorry we got into such a silly, insignificant row a few minutes ago...and, well, I forgive you."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You forgive me?" He'd expected some sort of an apology or ownership for her actions, certainly, but this wording took him quite aback. What could she possibly mean?

"You were being a right arse, as I told you before, weren't you?" she asked him, her eyebrow raised as though this was the most obvious fact in the world. "So I'm saying I forgive you for doing that, and it's all settled. No need to worry."

"_Right_," James said, drawing out the single syllable to a length long enough to suggest polite incredulousness and short enough not to appear too obnoxious.

She looked suspicious again, as well as more than ready to argue, but this time, he wasn't particularly in the mood for it. "Okay, okay, never mind," he hastily corrected himself, his tone screaming impatience, "you forgive me, and it's great, grand, wonderful, and you are a _saint, _Lily Evans. _Thank _you."

She caught the very obvious displeasure in his demeanor, so she sighed, and forced herself, with great difficulty, to say, "Fine then, all right, I'm sorry as well." She shifted uncomfortably, a gut-wrenching sensation taking hold in her lower intestine. "It's just...being in this cupboard, you know? It's got no room to _breathe _properly. I hate the lack of space in here, and it makes me more prone to being a bit petulant, not to mention the fact that you're my only companion for another fourteen hours or so..."

"Look, Lily, this doesn't have to be a punishment for either of us," he told her. "I'm feeling the same way as you, don't get me wrong - I'm not usually this petulant either - but if we work to get rid of the barriers, maybe it'll...maybe it'll be something fun, you know? A good story to tell. Something of an adventure. The Marauders and I have gotten stuck in cupboards before and people love hearing about it."

The expression on Lily's face was skeptical, but not altogether angry, which was most certainly a blissfully good thing. "Maybe..." she said doubtfully, playing with the word as she let it spill into the still air around them. "I just...I'm not..."

"I'm not your enemy," James said, putting his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry we fought, I'm sorry we were childish, and I'm sorry if you, for some reason, see fit to hate me for no reason, but I'm really not the one you should be venting at. If you want to be all high-and-mighty on me and grace me with your forgiveness, that's cool, but don't expect me to praise the ground you walk on for that."

"You praise the ground I walk on all the time anyway," she couldn't resist adding here, her confused eyes resembling molten emeralds.

He stared at her, as though he couldn't believe she'd just said that, but he chose not to comment on this one. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked her, "So are we agreed to be civil in this cupboard for the rest of the fourteen hours we have left?"

He put out his hand, leaving his fine fingers hanging in space, ready to intwine with hers if she let him.

She considered it, only for a moment or two, but she didn't have another appealing-enough option; so she sighed, did her best to stuff any petulance still left in her to the most unused corners of her mind, and allowed her hand to shake his. Her palm fit surprisingly well with his, and while his were cold somehow, hers were warm. When they met, the gesture was firm, and both somewhat missed it when they let go, far too quickly out of nerves.

"I think we're agreed," she said with the smallest of smiles.

So maybe the Law of the Idiot had some truth to it after all! James couldn't help it at all; he put on a rather silly grin, wide and showing off the dimples she had been previously observing, and said the first word that came to his awe-struck mind - "Brilliant!"


	12. Potential Murder

**A/N: This chapter is subject to be edited again, after this initial posting, just so you know – I've been working on it so disjointedly that I think posting it and then changing it when it comes to me will be the best option, although it **_**is **_**meant to be rather awkward. Enjoy it for what it is now, and please review!**

* * *

"So…" Lily said carefully, "would you like to play truth with me again?"

James considered, but it only took him a moment to say, "All right. Yes, I will."

Lily smiled. "Excellent. I believe it was your question?"

"I believe it was," James replied, pleasant as anything.

This was good – this was very good. This new presence of manners, now that not killing each other had been agreed upon as a mutual goal, was rather enjoyable. Uncomfortable, sure, but that would all wear away in time, James hoped. For now, it was just nice to hear something that wasn't jeering or too awkward coming from her mouth. He'd had quite enough of that.

But, that also meant he had to think of a good, agreeable question to ask for this game of truth – which was difficult, because all the things he wanted to know about her were a bit personal, and would require a more prudent segway before he could even attempt to scratch the surface of them.

This was the problem with Lily, he thought – one had to be so hesitant and mindful of how they talked to her, otherwise any chance she might have given would be forever lost because she didn't dole out her trust as easily as others did. She did give second chances, but she gave them only if she thought someone deserved them. And James, usually, wasn't as deserving of them as he would've liked to be.

Still, none of that really mattered; he could deal with everything so long as she was civil to him, and she was. So, with a contemplative little smile, James asked her, "So, Lily, have you ever…have you ever been so mad at me that you could honestly murder me, or do some kind of Unforgivable curse on me?"

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the lightest question he'd had in mind, but it still was pertinent – he and Lily rowed often, and although a few threats per row were only par for the course, he wanted to know some of her meaning behind them nonetheless.

The question, like hers to him a little while back, disarmed her slightly, and she had to think for a moment before saying slowly, "Well…I dunno. It's kind of hard to say."

"It's hard to tell me if you actually wanted to kill me during one of our quarrels?" James asked, offended. "That doesn't send very good vibes here, Lily."

She giggled reluctantly, but her generally-gentle eyes were rather anxious as she said, "No, no, that's not what I mean, Pot- _James_. What I mean is…well…erm…"

"Do you, or do you not want to kill me when you fight with me?" he prompted her. "It was supposed to be a yes-or-no question with maybe a sentence or two of elaboration. It was not meant to be difficult. Would you like me to change the question?"

"No, don't be absurd," she said. "You're so impatient, James! Patience is one of man's greatest virtues; try to learn the beauty of it as I attempt to think of the best way to phrase this…"

James sighed would-be-huffily, but his expression was still playful as he said, "Oh all right then. Hurry if you can."

She grimaced, but took a minute or two to tuck and un-tuck her hair behind her ear as she deliberated upon her response. He waited as patiently as was humanly possible, but Lily was right – he really was far too impatient. Unable to sit still, he was about to inquire after her progress when she finally said, "All right, I think I've got something."

"Hooray!" James grinned. "Would you like a round of applause?"

Lily chuckled against her will once again, but said, "No, I don't need a round of applause, thank you. I was just announcing the conclusion of my thought process, because you seem to be so incapable of waiting for me to just say it as it reveals itself to me."

"I know," James said. "It's called a _joke_, you see – it's meant to be amusing and/or make the other person feel bad. It just depends on the statement expressed and the person in question."

"Which was it for me?"

James clicked his tongue. "Ah, ah, ah, Evans," he said with an impish grin. "It's not your turn to be asking the question here, is it?"

Lily half-smiled, but said, "All right, before I answer then, I must say – if you insist upon me calling you James, I insist upon you calling me Lily."

"Why?" James wanted to know, intensely curious all of a sudden.

"I dunno, it's just awkward, if you call me by my last name and I use your first," she said with a heavy blush. "I'd like it if we could at least keep that part of this ordeal regulated, you know?"

"All right, all right, if you insist, Miss _Lily_," James said with a fake sigh of exasperation. "Now tell me – do you honestly want to kill me when you and I get into one of our fights?"

Lily chewed on her lip for a moment, playing with her fingers in her lap as she did so, but she said, "If you want my _honest _answer...I don't think so. I mean, in the moment, I think I do because I'm just so damn frustrated with you, but once I'm out of that moment, and once I have a chance to get proper control over my emotions again, I don't really want to kill you. Beat you, slap you, kick you, shout at you, and possibly castrate you, sure, but never _kill _you."

James pulled on his thinking face. "Well, that's definitely nice to know," he said. "Sometimes, you do look like you really mean it."

She smiled, and gave him a little shrug. "I wouldn't kill you, James. Your fan girls would kill _me_ if I tried."

He looked bewildered. "I don't have fan girls."

Lily released a bark of a laugh. "Are you joking? Of course you have fan girls! Or are you really so obtuse that you don't notice those crowds that stalk you around the castle everyday?"

"I'm not obtuse…I just wouldn't call them fan girls," James said honestly. "They're…there, I suppose. I've learned to ignore them."

"How horrible of you," Lily said with a smirk. "They'd be heartbroken if they were told you ignore their attentions."

"They should've noticed by now," James tried to rationalize. "I mean, I've made it obvious I don't want a girlfriend right now!"

"Hasn't it been, I dunno, a few months since you broke up with Rose Hartmann?" Lily asked. "You don't usually go that long without a girlfriend on your arm."

James grimaced but said, "Yeah, it's been about three months since Rose and I finished it, but I don't want a girlfriend, nor do I want fan girls, as you put it. I'm happy as I am, with my friends and Quidditch keeping me sane. And, when you're not rowing with me, you."

Lily blushed again, chewing on her lower lip. "I don't row with you much anymore, be fair."

"You don't, but unless you rowed with me, you barely spoke to me at all," he pointed out.

"I didn't have much to say!" she insisted. "I mean, even now, we don't have much to say; we're too different."

"We're not _that _different," James reasoned. "And any two people can make conversation if they try hard enough. We're making some right now, aren't we?"

"Not good conversation," she pointed out.

"It's still conversation," James said with a half-smile. "And conversation of any type is fine with me. And when you spare my life, I like that too."

She smiled at him again, warm in their few moments of silence, but she averted her eyes rather shyly – she always got that way when he spoke about her in this way. Eager to change the subject though, even if she did have more she could say, she was swift to say rather awkwardly, "Well…you're still alive, and I am too…now do you have a question for me?"


	13. Spontaneous Crumbling

**A/N: Yes, some of you noticed – it **_**is **_**James's turn, hehe. But don't worry, it was totally deliberate; and this is where you get to see why I made some room for that! I think it's definitely time for this type of a short, lol. It's a bit on the tender side, and I tried to express it the best I can, so please be sure to review and let me know if it worked, because right now, I'm just not sure. xD**

* * *

"Wait, isn't it your turn?" he asked her, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

"My turn for what?" she asked vaguely back, still completely and utterly red.

"Your turn to ask me a question," he said, watching her with honest puzzlement. "I just asked you if you wanted to kill me when you fought with me."

"You did?" She was dazed, and blushed even redder as a result. Then, when realization dawned in her eyes – emerald pools of molten, crystalline light – she gave him a small 'ah' of apprehension before saying, "Oh, yes, it _is _my turn."

"Mhmm," James said, nodding slowly as he continued to watch her with the same puzzlement. "It is. Do you have something, or do you want me to wait?"

Mentally, she kicked herself in the gut for her stupidity – what was wrong with her? Why was she so pink in the face? Why had she forgotten what she was saying the moment the words escaped her lips? She had to get herself together; this inanity in his presence, this crumbling of her soul within the previously sturdy cage she'd kept it in, none of it was allowed.

It wasn't rational, it wasn't justified, it wasn't anything except utterly and completely stupid. Like she'd thought before, it simply was not allowed.

But waving this aside for the time being and putting some imaginary scotch tape over the aforementioned crumbling cage, she shook her head with the tiniest of smiles, and said to him, "No, no, you don't have to wait. I have another question."

"That was fast," he commented. "The last one took you longer."

She gave him a look, although he wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve it, and said after a moment, "Well, the question on my mind is this…erm…"

She bit her lip, turned her gaze to the ceiling as her cheeks coloured a warm rose for what had to be the fourth or fifth time, and then shook her head. "No, never mind, give me another minute or two," she said.

"What were you going to ask?" he wanted to know, his attention irrevocably caught now.

"Nothing," she said a bit more insistently, her smile small and shy while her eyes glittered indecipherably.

"Tell me," James persisted. "I promise I won't laugh."

"No, it's nothing," she repeated with another shake of her head. "Really. Just give me a minute, yeah?"

Her tone clearly told him that she was not in the mood to be reasoned with, so he decided to sigh dramatically, and let it go. "Oh all right," he said grudgingly, "but this is the only time you're allowed to pass it up. One of the rules I forgot to mention in the beginning is that you're not allowed to hold back information once you've implied that it's there."

"You just made that up right now!" she accused him.

"I did _not_," James said defiantly, though his eyes were playful. "It was on the tip of my tongue, I swear!"

"I'm sure it was," she said sarcastically, feeling another crackle appear on the delicate framework deep inside of her. "But all right, if you care _so _much, then I suppose we'll instate it from this moment on."

"Good; keep that in mind next time you have another 'never mind' ready for me," he said to her, grinning.

She rolled her eyes but her smirk was still in place as she said, "You're impossible."

He gave her a nod of his head, but said, "As flattered as I am from your gracious compliments, you do have a question I'm waiting for, so you might as well ask it."

"I don't have to ask the original one, do I?"

James considered. "Hmmm…then I suppose if you _really _don't want to, I can't force you to," he allowed.

She considered as well. "Thanks, but I'm going to use that offer – I just thought of a better question." She paused, and continued, "James…you do favor the virtue of honesty, don't you?"

"I do," he said proudly.

"Yes," she said, "so that's my question – do you _always _tell the truth, or do you sometimes bend the facts just a little bit to suit the needs of your moments? Have you ever told a little white lie before?"

James pulled on his thinking face once more. "That's a difficult question," he admitted. "I can't remember everything, obviously; but as far as I can remember, yeah, I'm an honest guy. I'll tell it how it is. I'm known for it – the Marauders and I all have our 'things,' and mine is my brutally direct sense of truth."

He flashed her a grin. "Believe it or not, Lily, I do have morals."

She gave him her sixth smirk in the past hour or so – she had a habit of smirking or blushing a lot when she was in his presence, though it was beyond her why this was so. "Wow," she said, permitting some of her admiration creep into her tone of voice.

"What's so wow about it? You should always tell the truth," James said. "That's the only way this world's ever going to work."

"No…it's just…" She blew a strand of her hair out of her face, then said haltingly, "I dunno; I just…I suppose I had this impression of you bending the truth, and telling convenient falsehoods if you need to…and I suppose knowing that you're actually the exact opposite was a little…well…alienating."

"You know, I get that a lot," James said, looking amused, concerned, and intrigued all at the same time. "Why do people think I'm a liar? I loathe liars – I do my best to make sure I'm _not _one."

"I guess it's because you're…because you're a loud, vibrant human being," Lily said sincerely, thoughtfully. "You like jokes and stories and tall tales – people aren't very perceptive, you know, and they'll just assume that you make everything up when really, you don't. Not when it matters."

His gaze was curious, and oh so gentle as he surveyed her now – he longed to say something light, like 'Are you really complimenting me, Lily?' but somehow, it didn't feel right to tease her. Not now. Not in this kind of a moment; this careful, delicate one that was so rare between them.

Although, the amount of those moments was increasing almost alarmingly since they'd been trapped in this cupboard, with nothing and no one to hide them from each other; but he didn't want to think too far into that at this point in time.

If he did, he was sure he would over-think it and screw it up, and that was the very last thing he wanted to do.

So, he simply settled with his intense look, boring into her eyes like moles into their earthy tunnel-havens, and saying, "You're probably right, but I think you're wrong only over the part about humans not being very perceptive."

She said nothing, but her expression was questioning; he yearned to lean towards her and stroke her face, but he instead clarified softly, "You, for example, are nothing, if not extraordinarily perceptive."

And then came the inevitable silence – uncomfortable, stuffily warm, tense. But this time, there was something else to it; it took him a moment to identify it, but he found that it was…poignant somehow:

He'd said something too tender for her to handle, yet she somehow didn't mind it – she was allowing it to come to her, wash over her, envelope her and then melt off of her. Her eyes locked in with his for only the briefest of moments, as they had done before, and he saw something in them that had not been present before.

When he was about to say something about it though, she was careful to hide it away, embarrassed of her unexpected vulnerability; with a rough clearing of her throat, she smiled as convincingly as she felt capable, and said, "Thank you, James."

"You're welcome." His voice was quiet, but he tried to smile as well – tried to look as though nothing had happened, as though they hadn't shared the flicker they had. That was obviously what she wanted, so he figured he could humor her, just this once.

So, he cleared his throat as well, and said, "So…Lily, _this _is the time for my next question. Are you ready for this?"


	14. Avoidant Behavior

**A/N: Gah, this chapter was so frustrating. I lost the…flow, I suppose you can call it, and it took me forever to figure out how I wanted this to feel. The end-of-year homework I'm getting right now doesn't exactly help either. So sorry for the wait this time – I'm also sorry if it reads a little choppily. I've just had it with this chapter! It's subject to change because I still dislike it so much, but here it is for now, to assure you lot that yes, I am indeed still (somewhat) alive!**

**Whoever can tell me what book I was alluding to when I mentioned Room 101 gets a brownie. xD**

**Oh, and I hope I mentioned this took place in sixth year. If I haven't…well…I just did, hehe.**

* * *

"Yes, I'm ready," she said after a moment of clearing her throat and hoping the pink in her ears had gone down at least a little bit.

"Okay." James cleared his throat, and then asked her, as carefully as he could, "Lily, what were you about to ask me before you insisted on moving along?"

She took a moment to stare, horrified, at him, before finally asking him, "Excuse me?"

"What were you going to ask me, when you asked me about the honesty thing?" he repeated, already wincing inside – he was sure this was completely the wrong question to ask, and the look on Lily's face only confirmed it further for him.

That didn't stop him from continuing to persist though; he really, really, _really _wanted to know what that question was.

"I told you, never mind about it," she insisted, her cheeks going a luminous pink all over again.

"Well, that's my question for you – you told me you were ready for it," James told her stubbornly. "And since this is Truth, you need to answer me honestly."

She searched around wildly in her head for a valid reason not to answer this, but she couldn't think of one – she was forced to settle for flailing slightly and almost whining, "I'm not going to tell you!"

"You have to," he reminded her. "This is Truth, as I said; I want to know what the question was. I swear on…I swear on…"

He looked around the room for a moment, searching, before saying more definitively, "I swear on my broomstick and every girlfriend I've ever had that I won't laugh at you, or give you a hard time about it. I just want to know what it was."

She raised her eyebrow. "A hefty price," she commented, hoping to distract him a bit. "Are you sure you'd bet the necks of half the school, as well as the precious wood from some dead tree in the world, for this sort of promise?"

He smirked. "For the record, I've only had about six girlfriends that I took on more than one date – I don't like more than one in a single year, because then I feel…I dunno, like a cheater or something. And yes, I'm willing to bet all that, because I'm serious – I want to know what you were thinking before you changed your mind."

She sighed, but intrigued, she asked, "You only like one steady girlfriend in a year? I didn't know that."

"That's a tad offensive," he objected, feeling mildly snubbed. "Just because you've deluded yourself into thinking I'm a crazy, sex-obsessed maniac because I like going on dates, doesn't mean any of it is actually true."

"So you're telling me you've never had sex with any one of them before?" she inquired, her eyebrow raising once more, her tone skeptical.

"One of them," he admitted. "But it was the one girl, the one time, and it was…well, I don't particularly want to talk about it – besides, you have a question to answer before you're allowed to bombard _me_ with any."

She threw him an almost playfully irritated look – she still didn't want to own up to what her query had been – but she still persisted by saying, "Honestly, James, I'm not going to tell you. I'm entitled to my privacy, despite playing a game of truth, and I want to keep this to myself. Wasn't that a rule of yours, in the beginning – when you said that if someone really doesn't want to give details on an intimate matter, you can't press them about it?"

"That _was_ a rule," he said, the usual light in his eyes flattening significantly when he remembered stating this.

"Right, so this is an intimate matter for me," Lily finished, inspired by his gesture. "Like you said, don't make me feel bad about it."

"Well, when I said intimate, I meant…I dunno, something about your love life, or something…profound," he tried to explain, rumpling his hair and making a variety of faces as he stuttered.

"How do you know my question wasn't about your love life, or something 'profound,' as you put it?" she demanded, though a little louder than she'd intended to be.

"Profound questions implicate genuine curiosity and curiosity in the other person, so I figured you wouldn't want to ask me one of those," James said with a lazy half-grin.

She gave him another look, but this one was highly aggravated, unlike the last one. "That was unnecessary," she said huffily.

Startled by her seemingly-pointless change in mood, he said, "You posed a thought, I gave you my outlook. That's generally how it works, isn't it?"

"Why do you always assume that I hate you?" Lily wanted to know, her eyes severely annoyed and the muscles of her face tense.

He almost laughed aloud – it was with great difficulty that he kept it in. "That's a bit rich, Lily. Wouldn't you say it was second nature after six years of having someone openly say they loathe you?" James asked, barely suppressing his smirk. "You haven't exactly kept your dislike of me a secret."

"No, it was only five years," she argued, still rather combative in contrast to his laid-back approach to everything she said. "After the scene at the lake – I never rowed with you after that. This whole year, we've not had a single spat until this stupid broom cupboard incident."

"True, but you never did say you were sorry for any of our previous 'spats,' or that you had decided to let go of your outrageous opinions of me from years past," James pointed out. "So what was there for me to look at as proof that you don't hate me anymore?"

"If you don't fight with someone, isn't that proof enough?"

"Not with you," he said solidly. "With you, you never _really _know what's going on in your head, so I've found it's just better to stick with what you know is fact and change the course of action later, when new evidence is available."

That shut her up, but not in a good way – Lily's mouth was set petulantly again, like it had been during the argument about rights to the first question. It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a good sign, but this time, he didn't particularly care; he had done nothing he regretted, and if she chose to drive herself over the edge, it wasn't his fault.

Since she clearly wasn't saying anything on the matter then, he continued, "You're unpredictable, Lil. I prefer playing it by ear."

"I'm not _that _unpredictable – I can't be," she told him, frustrated. "Marly always tells me I'm an open book; that you can tell far too easily how I'm feeling, so I would've figured you shouldn't take it for granted that I hated you."

"So you don't hate me?" he confirmed, his expression unmistakably fascinated.

"Well, no, not really," she acknowledged, blushing. "I mean…after fifth year, we both sort of backed down, didn't we? At that point, there wasn't much left to loathe, was there?"

"We did," he mused. "But I must say, this is quite a welcome surprise; I was under the impression that I still had a big black blotch right in the middle of your bad books."

"You did, but now it's more like a few little black spots that can, for the most part, be ignored," she said, blushing and allowing the smallest of smiles to decorate her expression.

"Very, very interesting," he murmured, nodding thoughtfully. "But I must say; if you hadn't said that, I wouldn't have known it. Marly's deranged; people can't read you that easily, Lily. Even if they know you pretty well."

"You think so?" Her aggravation had melted off of her face completely by that point, leaving her unwillingly hanging on his every word. Making her do so seemed to be a talent of his that only he possessed, for she had never been in the presence of someone who could do similar things and make her feel similar emotions before.

"I do," James confirmed for her quite solemnly, though.

Perhaps, she deliberated, it was because he had no manners to speak of and always leaped right into what he was thinking or what he was feeling; he barely ever left her room to share her careful confessions in the wary manner she longed to use. She didn't know many who had his kind of self-confidence.

And, in that moment, right after that simple sentence soaked into her ears at long last, something in her and somehow also around her shifted, giving her the sensation of sinking into a bath instantly too hot and too cold, too solid and too pliable, for her. He just had this inexplicable _way _about him, she knew, and he had this amazing capability for changing the mood so strangely, while still making it feel so _natural, _because it appealed to every part of her – good _and _bad.

It was more mystifying than Wonderland, more terrifying than Room 101, more exposing than being beheld naked, this outlandish effect he appeared to have on her.

"You're…complicated," he went on with the same tone after watching her ponder him for a minute or two. "Full of layers, full of secrets. Everything about you could mean a million different things – like I said, I usually play it by ear, because your temper is frightful if I'm ever wrong, which obviously I have been throughout the years."

To be honest, no one had ever spoken about her in that fashion before then – it was a bit alienating for Lily, because if she had the choice, she would not have picked James Potter, of all people, to be the one to try it first.

When it came to being meaningful, philosophical, and almost respectful of the crazy things she did that even she couldn't explain at times, he wasn't exactly the type of person she would trust. Too much had happened on his front – trust was simply not allowed in her world, like so much else about him.

So, keeping that in mind, she exhaled slowly, and quietly inquired, "Is that a good or a bad thing?"

He considered for but a moment before saying very seriously, "_I _think it's a good thing. I like a bit of challenge, myself; there's nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night, I say. What would be the fun of life if we don't have something to bang our heads on the wall over?"

She couldn't help but chuckle slightly at this and curl up to hug her legs, her chin on her knees, as her still-intense gaze remained on him. "You're something else, James Potter," she said softly.

And then he did that mood thing of his again – that swift, bewildering change of ambiance that brought them out of their subtle, just-beyond-skin-deep atmosphere to one of smiling, polite interviewing, as it was before.

And, again, she was completely bewildered by how freely he was able to change gears and laugh freely, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe I am, but you're a piece of work yourself," he said with a wink so short she could have sworn she may have imagined it.

"Am I?"

He nodded, his grin in place at this point as well. "You are – I asked you one simple question, and you not only didn't answer it, but you brought on a whole new round of questioning too. Are you ever going to tell me what you were going to request of me previously?"

She kept in her tucked up position while he comfortably spread his feet out across the shelves in the cupboard, but she did permit a mischievous little smile to play on the corners of her mouth. "No, I'm not," she said. "Not right now, anyway. But you may ask me a different question instead, if you'd like."

He shook his head, his smile warming as he caught sight of hers. "Nah," he said. "I'll just let it go for the moment, and open it up for _your _question – which I might not answer, just to spite you."

She swatted him playfully, but hesitantly, on his calf. "You're a prat."

With a twitch of his nose and a rumple of his hair, he winked at her once more and said, "I do believe it _takes _a prat to know one, Miss Lily."

She grimaced. "What a horrid cliché, used just as horridly if not even more so."

He laughed for the second time, unperturbed. "Ask me a question before I decide to re-open my interrogation on my previous one."

She stuck out her tongue at him in a flash of uncharacteristic childishness that amused him to no end, regardless of how short it was, but she said, "Very well then…"


	15. Hesitant Intimacy

"So," she said, business-like as she settled in a little more comfortably into her corner of the cupboard, "you mentioned that you only like one steady girlfriend in a year and that you're not a crazy, sex-obsessed maniac, correct?"

"Yes," he said, playing along and looking at her equally as seriously, although his candid eyes betrayed his inner amusement nonetheless.

"My question to you, then," Lily said, "would be this – who was the one steady girlfriend you had sex with, and when did you have it?"

He visibly flinched. "That's two questions," he pointed out lamely after a moment of sheer shock, absorbing her unfairly personal inquiries.

"But they're related, and you'd end up having to give me the gory details anyway – I thought I'd give you a bit of a prompter to help you out," she said dismissively. "Now tell me; who was the 'lucky' young lady?"

Until that point, James's stance had been open, with his arms at his sides and his legs wherever they could find room; but upon being pressured to detail his love life, he found he closed up a little, by hugging his legs the same way Lily was hugging hers, his head back against the wall. His hand went straight to his hair – a sign Lily had come to take as anxiety – and a low "Fuck," left his lips.

"What?" she asked.

"It's just…" His voice trailed off as he tried his best to meet her eye. "I dunno, all right? I…I don't want to talk about it, as I said before."

"Why not?" she persisted. "You liked her enough to do it with her; why is it suddenly a bad thing?"

He pursed his lips, his fingers frantically messing up his raven locks, but it still took him a minute or two before he managed to say, "Too intimate for me, Lil. I'm not answering this one."

"To spite me, as you hinted you might?"

"No," he said shortly, his cheeks a vivid pink she was _very _unused to seeing. Wasn't blushing for people who _weren't _arrogant berks? "No, Lily, I simply can't go through with this one."

She was fully prepared to say something negligent or entirely imprudent, only to avenge his light-hearted but persistent grilling of her minutes before, but there was something about the look on his face that stopped her; she couldn't be sure what exactly it was, but it was all in the almost worried set of his mouth, the shadows just visible behind his hazel irises, the tenseness of his muscles.

Regardless of how he'd made her feel, she knew _she _wouldn't feel right if she pressed him any further.

So, to temper both the instinct to make him squirm and the instinct to move along, she made up her mind to say then, "Well, because I'm kind enough to pick up on your feelings and revere to your space, I'll let this one go and ask you something else. Even though I really want to know who it was."

His face twisted into one of his signature shapes that only he could pull off properly as his fingers took their third trip through his thick hair and a second sigh escaped his lips. He took a moment, but then said, almost guiltily because of his Gryffindor-esque scarlet cheeks, "Erm…if you're so inquisitive on the matter, I suppose I'll tell you…but only if you tell me what your big, bad question had been when you led me on and dropped me off the cliff."

"No," she said flatly. "I want to know, but not _that _badly."

"Can one question really be that damn harmful?" he almost whined, the beautifully soft coffee-and-olive colored eyes that had won over so many over the years pleading with her.

"Yes, it can," she stated obstinately. "It's embarrassing! Why won't you just forget it and move on?!"

"Because it isn't fair," he announced, his lip jutting out so petulantly that Lily wanted to laugh – she hadn't seen anyone look that cross since Petunia's horrific boyfriend, Vernon, had discovered the bakery down the road stopped making his favorite flavor of jam.

"James, please, _let it go_," she urged him, her smile rather wry. "If I ever spill, it won't be because you squeezed it out of me by making those faces of yours."

"I'm willing to share one of my deepest secrets with you, one nobody but the Marauders know, and you won't even share a stupid query with me?" This seemed to cause him much internal pain that shone only too potently through his expression. "That hurts, Lily."

She giggled unwillingly – and quite accidentally – but managed to somehow make it sound like a cough. "Sorry as I am to know that I've hurt you to that degree, my sadness does not extend far enough to give you what you want to know."

"Do you take pride in being so cruel to me?" he wondered aloud after a few seconds of digesting this.

Her emerald eyes had never twinkled so mischievously in his presence previous to then – it was quite a fascinating alteration. "Maybe," she said playfully.

"I'm giving you a damn good deal here," he informed her, serious as ever, as he chose to carefully ignore her reaction. "I won't say anything about your question – I just want to know what it is. And, in return, I'll tell you a little bit about this girlfriend that has managed to spark your elusive interest. Is that cool?"

"No," she said defiantly, although her eyes were still twinkling. "It's not cool. You're getting nothing out of me."

Frustrated and rather exasperated, James groaned loudly and banged his head against the wall again, swearing under his breath. It took Lily most of her plentiful self-control to fight off her laughter, but in all truthfulness, she did feel a bit sorry that she was giving him such a hard time about the question she never asked.

It wasn't her _fault_, really – he was just fun to irk in general. She liked making him weasel information out of her, thrived in his attention, enjoyed hearing him beg her with his enormous, puppy-like eyes. Something inexplicable about him made it not only easy for her to blossom a little and poke some fun at him, but also easy to…dare she say it…_enjoy _his company. He laughed frequently and effortlessly, he smiled and preened and whined and ruffled his abundant hair constantly; he was such a child at heart that it was difficult _not _to spend time with him and remain stuck on being horrible to him.

Everyone cracked at _some_ time – with him, that point just came far too soon.

However, after several bangs of James's head and a variety of colorful words spoken in his careless undertone, Lily still refused to budge, which was apparently far too long for him to handle. So, to illustrate his irritation, he gave her a sullen sort of look, and said, "This is _not _very nice of you."

She had no reply for this, so he simply decided to finish his thought by saying, "Lil, this is a game of _truth _– which means you kind of have to trust me. If you don't…then I don't know why we're playing. We can stop, if that's what you want."

Lily chewed on her bottom lip for a moment or two, at which point she said, "I…fine. If you don't want to play Truth, that's fine with me. We don't have to."

"I _want _to play, because I think it's an interesting way for me to get to know you a little bit better, as well as to pass the time, but you've got to be fairly unguarded for it to work right," he said. "And currently, your security system could only be rivaled by the security for the damn Queen of Sheba."

She couldn't help but giggle, but she recovered quickly – though not quickly enough for her to answer before three or four meditative minutes passed by.

"All right," she resolved at long last. "Tell me honestly about your girlfriend, and I'll tell you with the same honesty about my question."

James's face lit up at once, with the fortitude of a hundred candles behind his skin and bones. "Cool beans!" he exclaimed, sounding at once both very silly and very endearing.

Lily gave him a strange look. "Cool beans…?"

He waved his hand in her face impatiently. "Never mind, it's an expression I picked up from a cousin of mine."

She shook her head. "I don't want to know."

"But you will still tell me what the question was, right?"

"If you tell me about this girl," she said.

"Why do you care so much about her?"

"Why do you care so much about my question?"

His shoulders fell when she shot this at him, but his expression was unchanged as he allowed, "Touché."

She chuckled, but said, "All right then…shoot."

"Shoot?"

"Shoot," she confirmed calmly.

"Shoot what?" His nose wrinkled in his confusion.

"Shoot the story," Lily clarified, the look in her eyes almost challenging, "because you're coming clean first."

* * *

**A/N: If you thought I left off the reaction, you're wrong – they'll argue (and come clean) in the next chapter. ;3 Just to let you know. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, guys; keep 'em coming, because I love hearing from you lot!!**


	16. Purely Confessional

"What?" James almost yelped. "I'm _not _going first! You'll have to tell me your question first – it would be a lot faster than my story."

"No," Lily objected, the defiant disagreement all too apparent in her emerald eyes. "You're going first, or…or…or…I don't want to play, and I'll refuse to speak to you for the rest of the time we're in this cupboard." She checked her watch. "It's seven in the evening right now, which means you'd need to sit still and quiet for _thirteen hours_."

"It's seven? Really?" James snatched up her wrist and examined her watch. "Damn, we've killed four hours already! Can you believe it?!"

"No, I can't," she admitted, though she took her wrist away exceedingly quickly from his hand, as if he was electrocuting her skin just by touching her. "Four hours with James Potter in a broom cupboard…I wouldn't have thought I could do it."

"I know! I mean, who would've guessed you could go that long without putting an Unforgivable on me?" He laughed, and strangely, there was no note of bitterness in it whatsoever, only indisputable delight. "See, I told you – I'm not so bad."

Lily had no answer for this, so she simply glowered at him as he finished laughing, at which point she asked him, "Yes, yes, it's so _very _amusing that you find yourself still alive somehow after enduring two hundred and forty minutes with me…"

"Enduring isn't really the right word – it's more like _enjoying _two hundred and forty minutes with you," he said with his first crooked, almost flirtatious smile of the day. "You're even more interesting than I thought you would be."

"Am I?" This took her by surprise – she had been about to throw some dry remark or another at him, but she could no longer remember what it was in all her astonishment.

"Yup," he confirmed, plainly thrilled to see the shock flash across her face. "You'd have to see it to believe me though, you know what I mean?"

When the shock was gone, the expression she was making made it crystal-clear that in fact, she had absolutely no clue what he meant, but she still said, "Erm, sure."

And, clearing her throat, she went on hastily, to avoid more digression, "So, get back on topic…who was she, James?"

That immediately soured him back up – which had been only half the mission.

"You're going first, I already addressed this," he told her dourly.

"I'm not," she insisted.

"You are." He said this with such conviction that part of her actually wanted to go along with the notion – he was so entertaining when he tried to be authoritative. It simply didn't work well for him when his eyes were so earnest; again, the aura of childishness had begun to radiate off of his very person, and she had to bite back her smile.

"I'm not," Lily told him resolutely. "And you'd best believe it."

"Well, _I'm _not going first."

"Neither am I."

James's eyes went to the ceiling, his expression like a poker player attempting to make the best possible move with fairly dodgy cards. She waited patiently as he rubbed his chin contemplatively; and by her watch's count, it was two minutes before the light of intelligence came rushing back into his face.

"Fine," he said smartly. "If you keep holding it back, then I'll just have to assume it's something much worse than it really is, and I'll go the rest of my life holding that over your head – and nothing you could say would change my mind. And remember that I'm best friends with Sirius Black; when I say I can take it badly, I'm sure as hell not joking."

Lily's face became a shade paler when he said this – Sirius was notorious for turning virtually any innocent sentence into something grotesquely perverse. It was a special talent of his; if James was taking his training from the master himself…

"Okay, okay, okay," she said rapidly, almost tripping over her words. "I'll go first."

"Score!" James punched a celebratory fist into the air, victory in his eyes.

"Don't sound so pleased with yourself – it's only because I'm afraid of what Sirius's mind is capable of doing," she said resentfully.

"Too late!" James grinned enormously at her – his cheek muscles were visibly straining from the extent of it – and he said, "So…what was it?"

Lily furiously chewed on her lip, unable to believe he'd been able to get her to share first, but she knew she had to respond, and promptly at that. He was practically _dying _with curiosity; and although it was comical, she couldn't keep him waiting any longer.

So, with the utmost hesitancy and a crimson in her cheeks to shame all the red-wine in the world, she stuttered, "Erm…well…see…it's just that…y-you've got me _here_, in a _broom cupboard_ of all places…"

"Yeah," he said, lapping up her every word, his eyes round as coins. "So?"

"So…the question was…erm…that…I mean, like I said, we're in a goddamn _broom cupboard_!" she burst out. "This should be the perfect…o-opportunity for you, shouldn't it? We're alone! It's dark! We've got all the time in the world!"

"And?" he inquired, uncomprehending.

"And I wanted to ask you why you weren't suddenly making a move, o-or molesting me, or something crazy like that already!" she demanded, all in a rush. "It's…it's just so unexpected! And unlike you!"

Her mini-eruption – so odd a mix of silly and bizarre emotions – was greeted with a bewildered hush from him, as were so many of her other questions or answers. _What_?

"_What_?" James sputtered, his eyes going through a thousand emotional-transformations a millisecond. "Is that…is that really _it_?"

Her cheeks couldn't have been warmer, or more scarlet, than if she'd put fire to them herself. She had nearly chewed her lips to their bleeding point, and even her ears were so red, they appeared infected. "Yes," she said nearly inaudibly.

James couldn't have been more dazed if he'd tried. "You…you had me begging and arguing and fighting with you because you nearly asked me why I hadn't tried to make a move on you yet?"

Oh Merlin; this was awkward.

"I told you I didn't want to tell you," she said, defensively protective, her eyes as pleading as his had been previously when he'd tried worming her information out of her. "It was a stupid, outlandish, idiotic question, and I didn't want to embarrass myself. Can we please forget I ever said anything about it?"

This was definitely a side of Lily Evans James had not yet seen – she was more discomfited than he'd seen her in the entirety of their shared teen-hood together, and she obviously wanted to melt straight through the floor. She did have a right to be – she hadn't been exaggerating when she'd told him it was an awkward question – but it was still a unique experience for him to observe her at her most exposed.

He was most certainly not used to it.

However, although the look on her face was unmistakably begging him to disregard the comment, he couldn't relinquish this opening in her _quite _yet; so he scooted a few centimeters nearer to her, and as tenderly as he could, he said to her, "Well…we can forget if you want to, but in case you're wondering…"

He cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn't sound _too _cheesy, and said quietly, "The reason I didn't make a move on you was because I thought it'd be wrong. I was as infuriated and wound up as you were, and I didn't want to make it worse. I guess…I guess I wanted you to trust me first. The rest of it would come later."

She looked up from the floor then and stared at him, as he locked in his intense gaze with her; and for about five full minutes, all they could do was sit where they were, and ogle at one another.

Hazel on emerald, emerald on hazel. The black-haired boy and the red-haired girl, sitting frozen in their respective corners of a too-small broom cupboard, were simply _there_; waiting, watching, soaking the situation in – every ounce of Lily's mortification, every ounce of James's intense curio, every ounce of anything worth reveling in.

It was all present; everything either one of them needed to know, swirling through the nearly tangible thickness of the atmosphere, cutting through the uncertain silence with a knowing silence of its own, which was far more potent.

And, if she was frank with herself, Lily had to admit to herself that although she still couldn't like him properly and although she still couldn't bring herself to trust him after her numerous years alongside him, that all-inclusive silence she ended up sharing there with James Potter was the most eloquent silence she had ever indulged herself in.

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**A/N: I fully intended for James's side of the story to be here as well, but as I was writing, this seemed to be a proper place to end for the time being, despite the short length and the awkwardness that followed her "big" confession (which there's a reason for, just wait for a bit). I ****promise**** we'll get to the rest next chapter, 'kay?**


	17. A Bit of a Breakthrough

**A/N: This chapter is super long compared to the others, but I hope you like it! Please remember to review!!**

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James had really beautiful eyes, Lily couldn't help thinking, as she gazed into their hazy depths, slightly mesmerized by them.

For the longest time, her mind had only registered that they were hazel, and that was it; but as she took the time to finally study them a little more deeply, she realized that her mind had been quite wrong.

His eyes were actually a smoothly coarse (was that even possible on anyone besides him??) pigment of amber, with flecks of sweet cinnamon, a shade similar to brown sugar, and molten olive-tinted gold. At that moment, they seemed a bit stony, giving him an edge she was unaccustomed to; it seemed awe-inspiring to her that these eyes could be so light and playful, as they had been for the past few hours, yet still have the capacity to strike her so.

It was, no doubt, one of his many talents – he truly was a person full of marvels. Even when he was staring at her down the way he was. He simply left her speechless, she supposed, as she revisited some of the pathetic clichés she usually shot down as ridiculous and fictitious.

But that was the problem with him, the thing that muddled her most about him; all the things she never expected to be true were as solid as mathematics with him – undeniable, and forever present. He changed all the laws of her nature, all the carefully set principals that served as her life's compass; it was a loathsome habit of his, and it normally left her in a state like this – a state of tongue-tied timidity, a state of wondering what to do or what to say, when she actually had rather high-quality conversation skills with any _normal _person.

So, in a weak attempt at possibly providing a bit of a current for their present state of doldrums, she finally ran her fingers through her hair, her expression only very slightly worried, and sighed as she said, "Well…there you go, I said it."

"You did," he agreed quietly, the feeling in his eyes never changing.

She opened her mouth to speak – to say something, anything – but he beat her to it, by placing his large, man-sized hand carefully on hers (it was astonishingly kind) and saying, "Why would you be so embarrassed about asking me that though? It wasn't…well, it wasn't as epic as you'd made it out to be."

"It wasn't?" She couldn't even try to mask her disbelief. "James, I thought you would've gotten the wrong idea completely! That was what I _didn't_ want; I didn't want to change the flow, because I _liked _that you hadn't pressured me at all…but I still…I dunno, like I said…it was just a bit…a bit _unlike _you."

"I'm mildly insulted, but I do understand what you mean, in case _you're _get the wrong idea," he told her, completely destroying the almost-poignant moment they'd been sharing with his informality, as the texture of his irises churned in indecipherable hues and shadows. "It's, erm…okay, never mind. We're past all that now, which is the important part."

"Thankfully," Lily muttered.

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly in a smile, but his eyes settled on a shadowy, almost spooky emotion clouding the sparkle she'd become rather familiar with. "So…I'm guessing you want to know about my little tale at this time, since you've come clean, at long last?"

"I would," she said, her voice uncharacteristically small for reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Okay." James heaved a weighty breath, and his eyes went back to the ceiling, so Lily couldn't see what was going on in them temporarily.

He seemed to toy with the words in his head for a second or two, before he said, "This is…sensitive for me, as I've already told you, Lily. You'll have to be a little…erm, a little _chary _with your observations about it, all right?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." He swallowed and ran his tongue swiftly over his lips, before beginning, "You know Janey Welsh, don't you?"

Lily searched her mental register speedily, and came up with, "Yes, I do know her. Wasn't she your girlfriend last year?"

"Very good; yes, she was," James said, nodding. "Janey was my girlfriend from the end of fourth year, to the middle of fifth year – so we were together for about nine months."

Lily bobbed her head passively to show her comprehension, and he began, "It was…it was last September, when it happened. It was one of the first few Saturday nights of the year, and a bunch of us wanted to go out – including Janey and the Marauders. We decided to go to the Hog's Head rather than the Three Broomsticks in the evening, because they don't care who they sell their whiskey to and we were still underage. It was supposed to be a bit of a Gryffindor Homecoming; a little celebratory fling of fun to end them all to focus on work and O.W.L.'s the best we could.

"We got the Hog's Head, and sure enough, we each got enough whiskey to fill a bath," he went on, purposely keeping his voice toneless. "Every one of us was wickedly drunk by the end of it – I can barely remember anything about what we did after the third or fourth mug."

Lily was about to ask why in the name of Merlin he'd drunk at such a young age – whiskey was one of the things she'd vowed she'd never have before the age of seventeen – but the question was obvious in her face, and James was swift to say, "The only reason I drank so much was because…because, well, I'd never tried it myself, I'd only watched my father drink it at home when I was young. We were all doing it, it was a Saturday night, and I was feeling a tad rebellious – the stuff was horrid at first, but then it started tasting good, and it didn't take long for everything to spiral out of control."

She stayed silent as he briefly paused; she could sense that this was where the honesty part of Truth came into play.

"When we finally left, it was a miracle anyone could walk at all," he said. "Sirius threw up on the grass the second we stepped out. Hell, even Remus was wobbling and giggling – and Remus _never _giggles. Janey was hanging on my shoulder, and I was falling over every two or three steps. Everything seemed funny to me; the weather was nippy, so Janey was cuddled up against me, telling me random words to crack me up. We started out as a group when we started out, but when we got near the castle, Janey and I were completely alone.

"We were about to sneak inside, but then she stopped me, and asked me to take a walk around the lake. I agreed, because I didn't want to go to bed – I still felt pleasantly high, and I wanted to move around a bit more. We managed to stumble our way over in the moonlight together, and we collapsed on the nearest bank. It was wet, and the dirt almost felt sandy. Janey was cozy and solid next to me, and she smelled comforting, almost – she felt _nice_. She was also a lot less sober because I had consumed fewer drinks than she had, so she kept babbling jargon at me. But, that's not to say I wasn't still heavily intoxicated, so…I dunno, I just kissed her. Immediately, she shut up, and she kissed me back. It was clumsy, her tongue was all over the place, and she didn't taste right because of the whiskey, but it didn't take us long to start making out right there, on the ground where we lay."

When he got to this point, he closed his eyes and opened them again a split-second later. The gesture was astonishingly vulnerable, somehow; Lily was about to address something about it, but when she opened her mouth to speak, James was already swallowing and starting up again.

"She honestly did astonish me, when her hand fumbled on the zipper of my pants," he said, his eyes suddenly misty as his mind traveled back to the events of a few months previous. "She and I had kissed many times, sure, but she…she had never showed _that _kind of interest in me before. After her, I'd come close, but never previous to her. I recall breaking our kiss, and taking her hand away from me, but Janey only laughed at me. 'Do you want to or not?' That was what she asked me, and I didn't really know what to say."

He looked very gravely at her, and told her, "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty frank about this topic – I'm not big on sex, and I don't think it's the only way to prove you love someone else. Until that night, I'd fully planned on being abstinent for as long as it took me to find a woman I wanted to marry."

This statement, by some means, struck her – like his statement about keeping only one steady girlfriend every year. Perhaps it was because James was merely so much more loyal than she'd expected – more loyal than she'd even been told in the past. But, she still kept her mouth shut, and her gaze remained on him; and he took it as acceptance to his idea.

Slightly relieved by her (unusual) lack of extra questions, he continued, "But anyway, Janey was looking at me so strangely that I couldn't help but come out of my hazy stupor for at least a little bit. It's difficult to say in words, but basically, she just…the _want _in her eyes made me see her as a much realer person than she'd been for the weeks we'd spent together. She was a _woman _for the first time with me; she desired me in a way I'd never been desired, and we were fully capable of making a baby, if we wanted to. That shook me – scared me more than anything had ever scared me in my life."

He took a nearly wistful breath. "I ended up saying to her no, I didn't want to do it. She was _so drunk_, Lily, I can't even tell you – she didn't have any reason to speak of. My own reasoning was woolly too; when we started kissing again, it didn't exactly help me rationalize. She started removing my pants, and got them off too, and I…well, I tried to stop her, but like I said, we were _too tipsy _and it was dark and it was Saturday, and we felt like we had all the time – and reason – in the world."

His eyes suddenly jolted back to the present, and locked in with hers. "Before I knew it, we were rolling on the sandy bank of the Black Lake, and making painful, inept, drunken love on the Hogwarts grounds."

More silence met his proclamation, but this time, it was the tenderest, and most heartbreaking, silence Lily had ever been a part of.

She didn't know why it was – it might have been that hollowness and harsh regret behind James's eyes that showed all the way through him, the bitter way with which he spoke of his actions, the sheer profundity and emotional heaviness of what he was telling her – but her biggest guess was that it was probably because she was seeing him as a real person for the first time too:

James Potter, for all the time she'd known him, was nothing but a thought in the back of her mind, a nuisance with no more importance than a mosquito in her ear, a punch-line of an idea among her friends. Even when the hurt flashed in the eyes that were of so much interest to her in the broom cupboard, even when he rowed with her, even when she saw him genuinely interacting with people, she hadn't quite thought of him as a living, breathing human being who might have secrets, fears, regrets, or feelings like herself.

But here, when it was only the two of them, with nowhere to hide and nowhere to run to, everything about him – his hair, his face, his mouth, his positioning – appeared to inexplicably amount to more than she could have ever dreamed.

He was real – he had proved it to her only minutes before. And in that realness that was all of a sudden seeping into every single one of her pores, she found an odd peace melting through her that she neither wanted to explore or explain.

So, going along with her new epiphanies about the boy in front of her, Lily asked him as gently, and as softly, as she possibly could, "Was it…was it what you…_wanted_? What you thought it should be?"

"No," he said, pensive as he deliberated the query further. "No…it wasn't."

"I don't know if it would be…well, if it would be appropriate, but would it help if you t-told me more about it?" she inquired, her voice nearly inaudible and rather discomfited, but retaining its quality of sincere attention nonetheless. "About how you felt, what Janey was doing, how you were after the incident?"

His hand went through his hair a few more times as she stuttered out her offer, but he ended up saying, "Erm…there's really not too much I can tell you about the night itself. I was drunk; I couldn't remember most of it the next day, and what I do remember is too private for me to elaborate on, even in a game of truth."

"That's all right," she said at once, her cheeks quickly turning a rosy pink once more. She halted momentarily, but then asked, almost unconsciously through her own curiosity, "But, James, did…did Janey break up with you because of what happened in September?"

"Not directly," he answered, though his voice was a little freer as he gratefully took Lily's lead and expanded to the topic in his own cautious, introspective way. "But, if you recall, that was when our relationship began to die a little bit – when we weren't quite sure why we were together anymore. Janey was odd in the weeks after what we'd done; I don't think she would've taken that extra step if we hadn't been on whiskey, and she was feeling guilty, because she could tell I wasn't okay with it."

He took another, more open breath. "In the end, I'd begun redoubling my efforts on you, Lily, and the two of us found a reason to end our shapeless, detached relationship in the winter."

"It was me?" Lily cried out in disbelief. "You broke up with Janey because of _me_?"

"No, no, no," James said immediately, soothingly. "No, it's not because of _you_ – we were on the decline anyway, although neither of us could say it, and even without you, we would've found a reason. Things were just…weird between us."

His eyes were grave and bittersweet for the second time as he told her, "Once you make love to someone, Lily, you can't take it back or return to where you were. If it's done, it's done; you've got a part of that person in you, and a part of you is in them too. It…it involves a lot of trust, because it can change everything, for the better or for the worse. With me and Janey, it happened to be for the worst. We weren't ready."

She nodded, and as she started to brood over the matter, she surprised both of them by scooting next to him all of a sudden, and putting her hand firmly on his, as he'd done for her when she'd been feeling defenseless.

"Don't worry about Janey," Lily said, her concerned boldness – so atypical of her when it was for him – apparent in her abruptly-blazing eyes. "She was a long time ago, wasn't she? You've moved on, and she's moved on as well. You've got to let it go, and stop thinking about it as though it's a bad thing. It wasn't; I believe everything happens for a reason, and that everything you do just helps you become a better person. If you learned something from Janey, then you have no reason to look back regretfully at your association with her."

James stared at her then, but it wasn't the uncomfortable, self-conscious staring they'd been executing for the past four hours; for the very first moment in those four hours, and the six years they'd been at Hogwarts for that matter, James could look at Lily without tether, without equivocation of any sort:

He could look at her with familiarity, and see not a girl with bitterness inside of her for him, but a girl who could look at him with the same familiarity – something she'd vowed since day one that she would never do.

There was a certain comfort in that sensation – a certain snug, wonderfully unyielding comfort that made him smile so fully, a slice of his very soul could be glimpsed in his too-readable hazel eyes.

A certain comfort that inspired him to, nearly whisper to her, despite startling her the tiniest bit in the process, "Thank you."


	18. Guileless, Earnest Honesty

**A/N: This chapter's a little choppy, in my opinion, but my justification is that if I'm a little tense or a little jumpy or a little nervous, my mood swings will forever surpass all of yours, lol. So just keep that in mind as you read.**

**Thanks for all your wonderful reviews – I can't even tell you how much I appreciate those!**

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They remained quiet for another few minutes, after Lily's words and James's reply. It had to be the twelfth silence they'd shared since being in the broom cupboard together – most likely, they'd even shared more – but it still felt _right_, somehow. Fitting; as though every little bit of them that they kept revealing was purely accidental, and required a few minutes of digestion before the cycle began again.

The whole experience was simply too surreal for words; digestion was definitely a good thing.

So when Lily had spent sufficient time watching his face with a self-conscious, shy sort of an interest, she cleared her throat and asked, "Erm…well, I think it's your question then. Do you have one?"

James seemed to start a bit at the rough transition from tender moment to their game again, but he hid it fairly well as he rumpled his hair and said, "No, I don't. But if you have one, you can ask me."

"Wouldn't that be breaking the rules?" she inquired, curiosity becoming visible in her pools of emerald and overtaking her ingenuousness. "You said we've both got to take our turns – didn't you?"

"I probably did, but no, it wouldn't be breaking the rules because we're both accepting the pass in my turn," he clarified. "If I disagreed, _then _it would be a problem."

"Ah." Lily considered for a few seconds, but surprised herself by announcing, "You know, I do have a question for you."

"Pray tell?" he requested, smiling slightly at her.

"Well…" Her voice trailed off as she kept her eyes intently focused on him, but when she found it again, she asked very clearly, "James, why are you so honest with me?"

James blinked a few times, a little startled. "What, sorry?"

"Why are you so honest with me?" Lily repeated for him, trying her very best not to blush in the face of open interrogation. "You just…you just told me about your first sex, for Merlin's sake! Why would you do that? Why would you tell me something so personal, just because I wanted to know?"

James, as was expected, began frantically running his fingers through his hair and shifted his glasses on his nose – a new reaction, at least for her. This combination of fidgety, nervous little gestures, to Lily, appeared to signify a definite uncertainty on the best way to answer her question – although she couldn't guess, for the life of her, why this would be.

That was when she was hit with the completely-unrelated notion of how irritating it was for her that she could infer about him by this point; before they locked into the broom cupboard, she hadn't even known the exact color his eyes!

But, she wasn't able to muse on his for very long, because presently, James began to say, slowly, "Erm…well, I guess it's just because…because it's _you_ I'm talking to, not anyone else."

"What does my identity have to do with your honesty?" Lily wanted to know almost instantly, her speed of articulation ten times faster than his as her demanding curiosity got the better of her politeness.

He nearly laughed, though his cheeks were still red as anything. "I can't believe you're making me say this again," he said. "Haven't I told you a million times already?"

"_What is it_?" She wasn't sure exactly why she was growing to be so suddenly frustrated with him; all she could think about was pouncing on every word he spoke, squeezing as much truth out of him as he allowed her to. He just seemed to have the strangest effects on her, she assumed.

"Well, that as you're already well aware, I've fancied you since I was thirteen, and liked you since I was eleven," James all but burst out at her, a bit on edge in response to her irksome impatience. "I'm honest with you because I've long accepted that you're different; and since I haven't had the chance to show you how honest I am in the past, I'm using this game of truth to do so."

As abruptly as it came to her, the frustration died down inside of her, and she ran a hand through her own hair. It was a little greasy; she'd have to skip her lunch and run up to give it a quick wash once Marly let them out in the morning. "So, if I was anyone else in the world, stuck here in this broom cupboard, you wouldn't be this honest?" she verified.

"I'd be honest, sure, but not _this _honest – not honest enough to share my most personal stories," he answered.

Lily remained quiet then, a slight frown playing on her eyebrows, and she chewed on her lips, thoughtful. Her eyes averted to the ground as she resumed her position of hugging her legs, resting her chin on her kneecaps. But, when her eyes met his face again less than a minute later, she asked in a hushed tone, "Why am I so different? Why can you share all this with me and not, say, Marlene or Alice or any of the other Gryffindor girls?"

"You're…you're _Lily_," he said, as though this explained everything. "I trust you completely – you can take the truth without any edits."

Another silence twined about them, and like all the others, this one also had a specific personality to it – but it was darker than the rest of them had been. If she let herself think freely, Lily would admit to herself that it was because of James – his honesty, as earnest and guileless as it always became for her, made her ill at ease.

For years, she had avoided inspecting the real reasons behind her discomfort, and being here in this bizarre situation was not going to change anything, so Lily went onto default mode; she swallowed down the anxious lumps forming with surprising rapidity in her throat, supported her forehead in the open palm of her hand, and said against her skin, "Next question."

"Lily, are you –" She could hear him shifting and attempting to approach her, obviously bewildered by her hasty mood swing, but she didn't want to hear what he had to say, nor did she want him to near her.

"No," she cut him off fairly harshly, not making an effort to change position. "Next question."

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**A/N: Confused? If so, excellent; I'll explain it next chapter. Getting it? Wow; kudos to your perceptive abilities! Lol so please review & I'll post the next chapter ASAP!**


	19. A Few Steps Backward

**A/N: Okay, I've got some housekeeping matters to attend to really quickly before the chapter…**

**First is that the official length of "Broom Cupboard" has been decided for between 40-45 chapters.**

**Second is that at the moment, you're still supposed to be confused, lol. When you're with someone you barely know for an entire night, in a **_**broom cupboard**_**, no less, it's guaranteed that some funky things are going to occur. So keep your knickers on and guess away at why I could possibly be doing this, and I'll do my best to update soon!**

**Third is simply to thank you for all your support with this story – truly, it means a lot to me. Hugs all around!**

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Stunned, and a little offended, James backed away to his respective corner once more, as the red-haired girl in front of him continued to avoid his gaze. Honestly, what was it with women and mood swings? It seemed to be a specialty of theirs – confusing men with their affinity for changing tack at the speed of light and expecting them to keep up.

It was maddening. He made a mental note to ask her about it when she was in a better temper.

But, seeing as she had called (or demanded, really) for him to ask her a question, he cleared his throat after a moment and inquired, "Lily, are you all right?"

"I told you to continue with your turn," Lily told him flatly, finally deciding to resurface from her hand to give him a sullen, biting sort of look.

"But that's the question I want to ask for my turn," James announced, eyes flashing. "Are you all right?"

"Oh all right then," she grumbled, leaning her head back against the wall. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Clearly, you're not, so can you please grant me the honor of hearing what I did wrong so I can attempt to fix it?" he requested, through slightly gritted teeth.

"It's not _you_, Potter, how could it _possibly _be you?" she asked him bitingly, scathingly, her question obviously rhetoric. "It's me, it's all me."

"Honestly, what is the matter with you?" he demanded irritably. "And you tell me _I'm _the childish one! How rich of you."

"Of course," Lily said loudly, just as irritably. "The moment _you _have the fault, we forgive and forget about it, but the moment _I _seem to have a fault, _I'm_ the childish, rich one! What a typically male viewpoint!"

"Now you're blaming my justified opposition on my _gender_?" James sputtered, livid.

"Yes!" she shot back at him, seeming to be glad for a reason to detonate unreservedly at him. "Men have always been like that – they're forever going to be the macho ones, the ones that matter, so when they slip up, oh, it's all fine and pardonable. But, if it's the _woman_, the lesser mortal between the two, then of course it's not okay! She's being juvenile, silly, basically like the _girl _that she is; how fucking _dare _she?! Isn't that what you're thinking right now?"

"Of course not!" James argued vehemently. "I have a great respect for women; I'm simply saying you're being childish because you _are, _regardless of being female. When _I'm_ being childish, regardless of being male, I accept your allegations – and I've been accepting them without too much fuss for however long we've been inside of this damned cupboard!"

"Well, how very noble of you," she retorted contemptuously.

Frustrated, he began running his fingers through his hair. "Lily, to be quite frank, you are annoying the living shit out of me right now," he informed her.

"Good then; you now understand how I've been feeling this _whole damn day_," she said coldly, setting her jaw in that way of hers that meant she was serious.

"What is it with you and mood swings?" he decided to ask stridently, screwing the idea of bringing this point up at a better time. "You are the most hormonal person I've ever met in my _life_. Weren't you being nice to me a few minutes ago?"

"Perhaps I was, perhaps I wasn't," she said evasively, her expression still nothing short of incensed. "But if I'm so _moody_, and _hormonal_, and you don't _like _it, then why are you continuing to _talk to me_?"

"It's polite, isn't it? Talking to someone when you're trapped in a bleeding broom cupboard with them for what feels like four more years?" James snapped.

"Then hang politeness!" Lily exploded. "It's not like it's ever mattered to you before!"

With difficulty, James held his tongue as he surveyed her frostily for her remark. He longed to throw something back at her – something cutting, rude, something to demonstrate his feelings of hostility towards her – but he didn't.

Instead, he gave her only one fleeting glare, his eyes resembling icy, moss-covered boulders, and laid his head back against the wall as well.

Two could play this game, he thought; and he vowed to himself that he would not speak – not even if he desperately had to – because he really had nothing else to say at the moment.

He glanced at the candle he had lit for the two of them a while back, when they'd first been locked into the cupboard. The flame was still dancing, casting honey-colored shadows across Lily's aggravated face and across the random objects scattered about around them.

To openly enhance his exasperation with her, he made sure she was looking vaguely in the direction of the candle before he blew it out with one resolute application of breath, leaving them mostly in blackness.

So _there_.


	20. Guilty Little Musings

**A/N: All right, here we go again with the housekeeping…you're doing that "not-trusting-me" thing again – have a little faith in me please! Food and bathroom were going to be taken care of very, very soon, so relax; no, the chapters won't be longer; and yes, Lily's being queer, but I know how I'm going to justify it. I merely need you to give me ****time****. Moral of the whole story here – **_**people need time**_**.**

**Thanks for all your reviews & feedback, I do love and adore every single one of you who review, but remember – **_**I have my reasons**_**. :3 Enjoy this chapter, and hopefully we won't have any more housekeeping notes, lol.**

**And, on a somewhat unrelated post-script, I went to a hideously boring dinner party the other night, so I got a lot of solid outlining done for this, and the OFFICIAL chapter count is…42 chapters! Yay!!**

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With a yawn, Lily looked down at her wrist to check her watch.

Seven fifty-six – almost eight o'clock. Almost twelve hours left, and she would be free. _Free_. It was an entirely impossible concept here, in this claustrophobic environment; here, all she could do was take advantage of James's highly exasperating company.

Freedom, she decided, would be not having to look at this boy at all unless she wanted to – and she would use her freedom the moment she got out of here.

But until then…

She made sure he was looking off to the side before she began examining him as closely as she had the last time they fought. His expression was dark and extremely annoyed – she had rarely seen him look so bothered previous to this occasion.

His hair was hanging over his face, and she could practically see the storm cloud above his head. She had really done it this time.

With a quiet sigh, she continued to study him, while exploring herself and trying to figure out why she was feeling so horrible. It couldn't be her period, because she'd had hers two weeks ago. She wasn't on any pills or any drugs, thankfully, so she could easily rule out that possibility.

So what was her problem? Why had she suddenly pissed James off so wholly and unnecessarily?

He'd only tried to be nice to her. He'd been worried about her. She was so undeserving of his consideration.

She always had been, on her worst days when they'd rowed and she'd said something barely forgivable. And yet, he never stopped caring about her, never stopped feeling guilty about each fight even when he shouldn't.

It gave her a false sense of security that she almost took for granted, in a way; now that he'd shed his childhood naivety for an adult brain that could reason well and didn't feel guilty unless it had to, she wouldn't get off so easily anymore – something she hadn't really figured out because she hadn't spoken to him for so many months.

She could see it in his shadowy hazel eyes, still so cold and aloof – he didn't feel the least bit guilty anymore. He thought their fight was her fault.

And he was right.

Lily yawned again, a sense of deep self-disappointment and guilt washing over her and making her brain feel fuzzy.

She was tired. She was getting a little chilly. She had homework she had to do. She wanted to be everywhere but here, but Marly wasn't going to let them out for another twelve bleeding hours.

She made a mental note to kill Marly when she got out of the cupboard; this had been the worst fucking day of her life, and Marly was the "mastermind" behind it.

She wondered what Marly would want engraved on her tombstone.

_Here lies Marlene McKinnon, sixteen years young, killed by the furious best friend she locked in a broom cupboard along with the best friend's least favorite person in the school. R.I.P._

Lily began twirling her hair then, chewing on her lip crossly. No, that would never do any good. Killing Marly was not going to make her feel better.

Irksome and silly though she was, Marly was one of her very best friends. Losing her would be a devastation.

It was James she wanted to kill, she thought viciously. James could use a knife in his back, or a bullet in his chest, or even arsenic in his small intestine. Anything to cause him pain.

She almost pulled a lock of her hair out at that point.

_No_, it wasn't James she wanted to kill either. James hadn't done anything wrong – James had actually been the one doing something right, if anything.

She was just frustrated with herself, more than anyone else. She wasn't suicidal, so she didn't want to kill herself, but she didn't want to kill anyone else either. Her murderous daydreams were merely byproducts of her restlessness at being stuck up in here; she desperately wanted to leave.

When she fought with James normally, in the common room or the corridors, at least she could run away, and ponder in private until it was time to ignore him again during class.

Here, she could do no such thing. Here, she could only sit here, with James, and endure his presence while her blood surged with such force that it frightened her.

Everything about him was making her skin crawl and her heart clench, making her want to bang both his head and hers against the door of the damn broom cupboard.

But, more than that, she almost wanted to apologize…almost wanted to bridge the gap between them, when she'd been burning the ham-fisted efforts of the original bridge they'd been making, but she didn't.

She couldn't.

She knew she wasn't big enough for that, although somewhere inside of her, a nagging sense told her that if it had been anyone but James Potter in this broom cupboard, she would have apologized by now.

Her watch told her it was exactly eight o'clock. Lily glanced one more time at the boy across from her, but he wasn't looking at her.

With a sigh, she lay her head back again, and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, hoping against hope that if she blocked this out to the best of her abilities, and fell asleep for a few hours, the storm might somehow blow over between the two of them, and things would be better when she finally decided she was ready to regain consciousness.

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**TO CLEAR THINGS UP: The watch is white, and more visible in the dark; and once your eyes get accustomed to the lack of light, I've found that you can see the vague outline of someone whose head is, say, turned in the opposite direction from you. That's my take on it. Thanks to _5redroses_ for bringing that up.**


	21. Bodily Complications

**A/N: ****Bathroom issues are going to start getting addressed here – and as for food, Marly did leave some, a fact I mentioned nearly in passing in the very first chapter. In case you're still wondering.**

**So, erm, here you go, & thanks a million for your lovely reviews!**

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Broom cupboards were just so _boring_.

James couldn't even fathom what had been going through Marly's mind when she first hatched her plan to trap them in one. Who locked people up in bleeding cupboards for the fun of it, for Merlin's sake?!

It was stupid – and it was never going to work. If Marly had expected Lily to fall on top of him and snog the bloody hell out of him during the night, she either didn't know her best friend very well or she was simply too optimistic for her own good, most likely a mix of both.

Lily Evans was simply a damn impossible force of nature sometimes – she really couldn't be reasoned with when she was dead-set on _not _listening. And she'd made it clear from the very beginning that she had no intention of listening to him.

It was just tremendously wearisome for him to observe though; he'd shared one of his biggest secrets with her, in the hope that she would perhaps…well, it was silly to think about after the foulness that had gone on afterward, but a part of him had truly hoped that Lily would take him a bit more seriously after she figured out he was more than what she had assumed he would be.

He supposed it was just his luck though – maybe he never had been destined to be involved with this girl at all, seeing as he could only tick her off, upset her, scare her off, or all of those at once.

How utterly depressing.

Sighing to himself, James vaguely wondered what the time was. Lily had the watch, so he would never know for sure because he knew better than to ask her, but it felt like it was later in the evening; the two of them had been cooped up for quite a long time already.

When he'd last inquired after the time, it had been seven o'clock – he deduced that it had to be at least eight or eight thirty by now.

Yes, it was about time for him to start eating dinner, take a bathroom break, and claim an early night; yesterday night (which felt so extraordinarily long ago, after the kind of day he'd just had with Lily in this damned cupboard), he'd stayed up late with Sirius for a few Marauder-related affairs that had demanded his attention.

He was obviously a tad exhausted, and had been looking forward for the solidity and comfort of his four-poster upstairs in the dormitory. So much for _that _plan.

This was merely too bloody tiresome for words.

James made a few faces in the dark, and entertained himself with a bit of mental swearing, but when the novelty began to wear off and boredom set back in, he realized his leg had fallen asleep again.

_Fuck._

Only Lily knew how to cure this one – and they were in the middle of the very awkward silence that could only come from having another row.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Stupid bleeding leg. It really did hate him. Almost as much as Lily hated him – perhaps she finally had some decent competition in that particular war-arena.

Yes, it was a catty thing to think, but he was beyond reprimanding himself for cattiness. Cattiness-reprimanding could wait for an hour or two, or even until the morning when he would be allowed to bore Sirius to tears with his exhaustive retelling of this night of events – his leg could not, however, wait as long.

He had to take care of this immediately; and regardless of his quarrel with Lily, he would have to begin using his usual emergency maneuvers.

Standing up carefully in the small, messy space he had been sprawled in, he started to shake his leg with a desperate sort of vigor – though he did, to his credit, at least attempt to be quiet so as not to wake Lily, who appeared to be asleep.

Of course, she did wake up anyway, because he accidentally jumped too high and hit the ceiling of the cupboard, making a loud thud that made her eyes snap open, but even in classes, effort did count for _some_thing.

"What in the name of Merlin's yellow socks are you doing?" she inquired, rubbing her eyes and squinting to survey him irately in the dark.

"Nothing, nothing, go back to sleep, dearest hormonal princess of mine," he said sarcastically. "Wouldn't want to disturb you in your royal slumber, would I?"

Lily's mouth set in that determined, aggravated way that spelled out her abhorrence of his deed as clearly as if she'd printed it in foot-high letters on her forehead, and he knew he'd pushed the envelope a little farther than he'd intended to go.

"Your foot's asleep?" she guessed in a quiet voice dripping in suppressed fury, recognizing the agonized motions behind the noises she was hearing.

"Yeah," he mumbled, banging it with dissatisfaction to the ground.

"Well, then I certainly hope you won't ask me to do that charm for you again," she informed him, her voice alive with a note of finality as she laid her head back resolutely to shut her eyes once more.

"I wasn't going to," James retorted back at her, his maturity matching that of a child six or seven years of age, even though he was, in fact, considering asking her to do the charm in a minute or so.

"Good," she replied as she promptly turned her head so that it was facing away from him, despite not being able to see him very well anyway.

Exasperated, James swore under his breath at her (though he hoped she hadn't heard him), and continued to shake his poor leg in the hope that it would cooperate, for once, and _stop _tingling so uncomfortably.

Needless to say, his leg did no such thing. It remained as tingly as it had been before; if anything, the tingles only intensified.

His joy was beyond the realms of human contemplation by then. Truly, it was.

Sighing, James kicked the wall and made his toe sting in addition to tingling as he sat back in his original spot across from Lily. His hand went straight to his hair, as it always did when he was in such a mood, and he stared moodily at the shady shelves around him.

Bloody stupid. That was what this whole business was – bloody fucking stupid.

But, as he continued to think vaguely about how bloody fucking stupid he felt and knew he was going to be feeling later, he realized with a jolt that pressure was really starting build up in his stomach.

It wasn't a small amount, though – it was actually quite a lot of pressure, pressure that was beginning to make him squirm slightly where he sat.

And that was when, with a jolt, he realized that it must be exactly eight hours since he'd last gone to the restroom – he'd gone between Transfiguration and Potions, as he usually did, and this was around the time he would go again just before either finishing his homework or going to sleep.

Fuck times a million; he had to go the bathroom, and he was still stuck in this damn broom cupboard…

…_with a __girl__._

If he was stuck on his own without anyone else, the bathroom would have been no issue – he would have gone in one of the plentiful buckets about the place.

But the fact that Lily was a female made things much, much worse.

How was he supposed to take his necessary pee when there was a sixteen-year-old girl in his presence, less than two feet away from him?!

Fuck times another million. Or five million, for that matter.

James started going through his hair with his fingers a few more times, chewing contemplatively on his lip while trying to ignore the building distress of his poor bladder.

Options. He needed options. It was simply very difficult to think of them when wanting to jump all over the place and scream bloody murder for the fact that he could not perform such a simple bodily task.

He'd never valued a toilet so much in his life.

But, back to the options – digressing would only make the process slower, something his body would _not _thank him for.

So he had the following options…

1) He could pee in his pants, but not only was that revolting, he'd then also have to live with the knowledge he'd peed in his pants, the physical evidence that he'd peed in his pants, _and _he'd have to explain to Lily why he smelled so strongly of piss. Not good.

2) He could not pee in his pants and risk an explosion…but that would probably lead him back to option one, which would, as aforementioned, _not be good_.

3) He could tell Lily that he had to pee, despite the fact that she didn't want to speak to him, and they could come up with a solution together. That, obviously, was a questionable alternative because of the fact that Lily would probably not react very well to the idea of having a young man ready to burst sitting so near to her, but it was an option to consider nonetheless.

That made three options to choose from. Which would it be?

Option one, he decided, he could rule out. Peeing in his pants was out of the question – he hadn't done it since he was four years old, and he was not about to start again at the age of nearly seventeen.

That also ruled out option two from his list, though, which left him with only option three: tell Lily.

He groaned internally at the thought; it was such a claustrophobic choice to have to decide whether pissing in his pants was worse than telling Lily he had to piss in his pants when she was still unwilling to talk to him.

He grimaced at her, as she so innocently sat there, ready to curl up and sleep for the night – this night had suddenly become even shittier than it had been when he'd first discovered the situation.

But, thinking the night sucked wouldn't help his bladder, which was making him squirm more and more noticeably in the silence and darkness of the broom cupboard. The only thing that would help his bladder was an empty bucket, but he really couldn't use one while Lily had only just fallen asleep.

If she was a light sleeper or wasn't asleep yet, and woke up to see him without his pants on, pissing in a bucket, she would either die, kill him, or do both simultaneously.

Even though he really had to pee and hated the situation more than he could possibly say, he didn't want to die yet. So, really, he would have to wait until Lily was truly asleep until he could pee in peace, which could take countless hours for all he knew.

And he really didn't have the countless hours necessary for the time being.

Fuck.

Biting his lower lip nearly until bleeding point, James finally decided to make a very, very rash decision. It was going to be one he would sorely regret the moment he made it, and he was sure it would live on in her memory and in her jokes as his blackest moment to date, but he knew he had to do it if he valued his very life.

It wouldn't be too hard, he told himself, even though he knew it would be. He just had to grit his teeth and do it. Take a deep breath. Recall to mind the Law of the Idiot, and its good result in a situation about as tight.

So, with a breath, James wildly jiggled Lily, his motions in tune with the frantic movements of his legs as he attempted to stop his bladder from bursting, and yelled her name until she could no longer ignore him.

"What the _fuck _do you want?!" she demanded sleepily, pushing him away roughly as her eyes glinted in the darkness.

"Lily, I wouldn't do this to you voluntarily, I swear I wouldn't, but I'm in the middle of a damn crisis here," James panted.

"What?" she asked, her eyes softening the tiniest bit at the edge of fretfulness audible in his tone.

"Merlin, I can't believe I have to say this to you," James groaned, closing his eyes against her pale, curious face, "but Lily Evans, I really, _really _need to pee, and if I don't in the next few minutes, I swear to whatever Higher Power is up there laughing at me right now that I _will _do it in my fucking pants. Help me!!"


	22. Going Back to Preschool

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to ****RockinWriter****, because she gave me my very first death threat the other day if I didn't update!! So, I did, and now she's famous! ;3**

**The characterization of this chapter might seem dodgy, but remember, ****that's the point right now.**** It'll change very quickly, so don't worry about it. I do hope this chapter works out all right (I know it's not my best, btw) & feel free to drop me any remarks you get as you read!**

**Love you guys lots though, and thanks for your reviews!! xx**

* * *

Lily just sat there, staring blankly in shock at the jiggling young man before her; time seemed to slow like a bad Muggle film as she took a few minutes to digest this odd sort of proclamation one word at a time.

"_What_?" she demanded almost dumbly, inevitable disbelief coloring her tone.

"I said, I need to pee," he told her urgently. "I really, _really _need to pee. What am I supposed to do?!"

"Erm, I don't know!" Lily cried, immediately going very pink as she looked back up at him, a mixture of horror and hilarity in her eyes.

"You've got to know," he almost pleaded with her, the extreme anxiety only too evident in his face. "You're…you're _Lily Evans_! You usually know these things!"

"I know magic and some logic, yes, but I'm not a…an expert on _urination_, for Merlin's sake!" she blustered frankly, making a disgruntled type of expression.

He squeezed his eyes shut, almost in submission of his agony, and he kept bouncing about on the spot, his hands on his knees as he attempted to ease his protesting bladder. Lily had to forcibly fight back her laughter, which was both surprise and amusement-induced, and she simply watched him struggle for a few moments:

Honestly, she was still completely in shock – and with good reason.

Here she had been, napping away at eight seventeen in the evening, attempting to forget another burst of a row she was still feeling bitter/guilty/confused/every-other-wonderful-emotion-in-the-book, when she was reluctantly awoken by the very man haunting her dreams only to be informed that her broom-cupboard-companion was in deep requirement of a toilet.

It was not every day a girl was forced to discuss the topic of lavatory needs with a _male_.

However, she knew she had to do _some_thing; it wasn't right to leave the poor boy in this kind of a situation, regardless of her feelings towards him at the moment. Maybe it wasn't exactly ideal that she was only talking to him because he had to take a piss, but it was still an improvement, and as he always said, anything was better than nothing.

"Okay, so how bad is it?" Lily asked, hoping she sounded practical and business-like as she quickly re-lit the candle James had blown out earlier so that she could see him better and carefully got to her feet. "How long have you had to go?"

"It feels like I've had to go forever, and it's _fucking __horrible_!" James moaned, shaking a little more violently.

"All right, all right, no need to be snappy," Lily objected.

She considered a moment as James threw her a filthy look (it was marred by his comical internal-trauma, but she figured it wouldn't be a good idea if she told him so), and then put her hands firmly on his shoulders when she decided on a new course of action.

"All right, I think my mum told me once that if you keep very still, your bladder will regulate and you won't have to go as badly anymore," she told him. "So here, I'll help you; stay still."

It only took James all of about four seconds to explode with his frantic energy, and holler, "_I can't bloody stay still_!"

"Try, try, try," she attempted to persuade him, increasing the pressure on his shoulders as he writhed under her grip.

"I can't, I can't, I can't," he responded hopelessly.

"Merlin, James Potter, you are acting like a fucking four year old," Lily complained, harassed already. "You are _nearly seventeen_ – can you please do me a favor and be mature about this? Hold still!"

"When you've got to go, you've got to go, Lily," he informed her in a near-gasp. "I can't help acting like a fucking four year old when I'm under a crisis-situation here! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, I suppose this isn't a good idea anyway," Lily said wistfully, wrinkling her nose as James doubled over suddenly. "You really have to go, don't you?"

"_**YES**_!" he hollered, then taking the opportunity to start kangaroo-hopping in place, since there wasn't even enough room in the cupboard to make a considerable trip around. "Are you sure Alice hasn't taught you any spells or tricks for bathroom-related mishaps?"

"I don't think anyone in the world would teach you something like that," Lily commented dryly. "But here, try sitting down and crossing your legs – that might help you keep still as well."

Desperate to try any and every remedy that came out of Lily's mouth, James obediently crashed to the floor and scrambled into a sitting position, in which he was rocking so much he was in danger of toppling over altogether. Lily sat down with him, in front of him, and kept her hands solidly on his shoulders – something, he found, that was not only warm, but rather helpful as well.

"Okay," Lily said, authoritative once more. "Okay, erm, sit here and prattle on about something insignificant to get your mind off of your…piss."

"Merlin, what else is there to talk about?!" James exploded, looking so irresistibly like a sugar-high child sitting on a vibrating cushion that Lily almost stuffed her first in her mouth to stop her laughter. "I am sitting in a fucking _broom cupboard_, with _you_, and I've got to _pee_, and I _can't_ because you're a _girl _and there's no fucking _toilet_!!"

"My, you're more negative and childish than I pegged you for before," Lily remarked. "Can't you…I dunno, think about something that's going _right_?"

"What could be going right?" he demanded to know, continuing to bounce. "You and I just fucking _fought_!"

"You're swearing again," Lily said, defying all that was good and right in the world by somehow remaining calm and sardonic despite her darling cohort's performance. "What's got you so up the wall?"

James threw her a very blank, irate look – it overtook even his soon-to-be-perpetual angst-ridden expression for a moment or two. "Do I honestly have to answer that?"

"Yes," Lily said, grinning. "With as many words as you can use; it'll distract you."

"Talking about needing to pee is going to distract me?"

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?" Lily inquired, her eyes mischievous. "Now go on – find the best damn adjectives you can to describe to me the distress you're going through."

"No," James groaned, shaking his head in such a way that his slightly-too-long black locks swished almost like a two-year-old's. "I don't want to think that hard! Do you have _anything _you can do? Please?"

Lily removed her hands from James's shoulder at last, and set them on her own lap as she considered his plea. "Erm…no, I really don't know what else to try. I suppose you'll just have to either sit with your legs crossed or jump around the cupboard until the feeling passes."

"I can't do that," James repeated in a whine for what had to be the fifth time so far, his hazel eyes wild in the limited light.

"James Potter, I'm not your _mother _here," Lily said resolutely, her hands on her hips in a rather parental fashion. "I can't baby-sit you like this! You are almost seventeen fucking years old! Can't you deal with it, please?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to need to piss and not be able to?" James demanded.

"I do, actually," Lily said matter-of-factly. "I've been holding it for about an hour now. I just didn't mention it."

James's face suddenly went quite dark as he pulled an ugly expression. "Yes, of course," he grumbled, his mood now doing one of its random surges as he switched over to sullen, bitter, _and _childish all at the same time. "Because you're so fucking _perfect_, right?"

"I'm not perfect," Lily said, bewildered. "I just…I dunno, I held in my piss and you're making a big hairy deal out of it when really, all you need to do is be patient and wait until the morning. You could go to sleep to forget about it."

"I can't sleep with a full bladder," James insisted. "And just because _you _are the epitome of flawlessness, morality, and piss-holding here, doesn't mean _I _have to be; I'm going to make a big hairy deal out of this if I want to, and right now, I do!"

"You're impossible," Lily said disgustedly, shaking her head. "I'm trying to help!"

"And you're not doing a very good job!" he countered. "You're telling me I act like a four year old, and you're telling me to elaborate on my _piss situation_, and then you tell me you've been in the same situation as me for an hour! That's _not _helping me!"

"Well!" Lily huffed, irate and taking on the poise of a five-year-old not getting her way. "Then I suppose there's only one thing you can do now, since everything else I've tried has failed."

"Yeah? And what's that?" he wanted to know, still jiggling.

Lily raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips, and picked up a large bucket sitting on the shelf next to her. "You'll just have to make do with this."

"I was going to, but you're a fucking _girl_!"

"Yes, I've noticed," she said acidly. "But, if you want to go, then go."

A hint of horror began to slip into James's tempestuous eyes, but he said, in the smallest voice he possibly could use, "Fine then…close your eyes and I'm going."

Lily grimaced; her only sardonic response was, "Well, enjoy yourself."


	23. Release of a Blissful Type

**A/N: Dedicated to Gilligan & moonlight-pixy, for my second and third death threats of the story! Hooray for death threats!! And, so long as they're playful and pretend, hehe, feel free to send more my way – they make me laugh, and I might dedicate the chapter to you!**

**Yeah, I did kick the rating up to M. It's for this very-awkward scene (the last of its kind, I promise) and for the language – it's getting worse than I'd intended to let it go. But those are the **_**only**_** reasons; otherwise, it's a fairly harmless story, I think.**

**Enjoy this chapter, darlings; your support is overwhelmingly amazing and I am eternally grateful. Thanks for always making my day! xx**

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"Are you _sure _your eyes are closed?"

"Yes, James, I promise for the fourth time now that they are indeed closed."

"Are you _completely sure _your eyes are closed – to the point where all you can see is the infinite blackness of your own eyelids?"

"Yes."

"_Positive_?"

Lily exhaled roughly, but squeezed her eyes even tighter, to humor him. "_Yes_. Now hurry up."

"I need to make certain your eyes are closed first."

"They _are_ bloody closed! Where was all this dawdling when I was trying to keep you still, James, honestly?"

"I don't want to pull down my bleeding pants and have you see my bare arse, fine as it may be," he clarified, both sarcastic and disgruntled.

"Well, rest assured that I would rather fall into a pit of lava than look at your bare arse, James Potter," Lily snapped. "Now hurry the fuck up!"

"Hey, hey, hey, red alert on the swear word there," James said, grinning slightly as he suddenly turned back around to face her irate form. "Is something getting _you _nervous? Why are you so insistent that I hurry up?"

"Nothing," Lily said with a groan, easing the pressure on her eyes for a moment in her exasperation. "Just go, would you?"

"Not until you tell me why." James's satisfied grin was complete – now it was _his _turn to annoy the bloody hell out of the girl rather than the other way around.

Lily's eyes flickered open a little, presumably to check whether or not James's pants were still up; when she saw they were, she opened her eyes fully, and her hands went straight to her hips once more. She was crossing and uncrossing her legs as she moved, clearly trying to mask some obvious fidgeting, but that didn't take away from the expression on her face. Much.

"I just want you to finish, all right? Having you pee in my presence is not exactly my cup of tea," she told him sardonically.

"Maybe not," he said, a hint of impishness coloring his tone, "but my guess is that…well, it's that your magical bladder is running out of fairy dust. Does the amazing, piss-retaining Lily Evans actually have to go now too?"

The look on Lily's face when he stated this would not have looked out of place if she had, perhaps, been a deer caught in the brightest of headlights. "What gives you that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know," James said casually, his eyes twinkling. "It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you're squirming about and look ready to jump to the moon and back, though."

Lily groaned; how embarrassing. "Okay, so maybe I realized I needed to go more than I thought I had because of your situation," she owned up.

"Aha, I _told _you that talking about piss makes you want to piss more yourself," James said triumphantly, all his own twitchiness vanishing on the spot as he enjoyed every moment of Lily's well-deserved mortification. "So you have to go too! I'm _not_ alone!"

"All right, yeah, I was wrong, you were right, may lightning strike me for my insubordination," Lily accepted, her tone taking on the desperate quality James had mastered in the past few minutes. "Now can you please hurry up and go so I can go as well? Weren't you ready to explode a bit back?"

"I still have to go, but I think _I _got your missing fairy dust," James announced with another one of his wide grins. "_I _am going to take my time, since I had to go first."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, stop it," Lily protested. "I need to go more than you do right now! Give me the bucket!"

"Hell no," James objected, holding the bucket protectively against his chest as he frowned at her. "It's _my _bucket."

"Give me the bucket, James," Lily ordered, reaching forward to seize it from his grasp.

"No, it's mine!" James insisted, clutching it more tightly and changing his position to keep it more secure. "Get your own bucket!"

"This is ridiculous!" Lily cried out, snatching handfuls of air in her attempts at the suddenly-prized bucket. "Give me the damned bucket! You don't have to go anymore!"

"I do too," James said, holding it out above her head with his long, muscular arms. "Now leave the bucket and close your eyes – I need to piss!"

"But you're going to go slowly!" she complained.

"Maybe, but that's _my _choice, isn't it?" James's smile had become something of a beam by this point; he didn't actually intend to take (too) long with the bucket, but the simple pleasure of seeing the look on her face at the prospect impelled him to say it anyway.

"You are _horrible_," Lily decided, pursing her lips until they were almost white. "_Horrible_."

"Aww, thanks." James patted her shoulder affectionately. "I love you too."

Careless – and sarcastic – as the uncomplicated four-word phrase was, Lily couldn't help but feel the tiniest of flutters go off somewhere inside her chest cavity, where her heart used to be before it slipped an inch or two for unfathomable reasons.

The reaction was so utterly excessive, so sudden and so _unexpected_, Lily almost blanched; it was with an astonishing amount of difficulty that she made a face at him and put her hands right back on her hips.

"Well then, if you wish to remain adamant on being so uncooperative, I suppose I'll have to find another bucket," Lily said stoutly, bending down to rummage around the shelves for another bucket.

Sure enough, she found another – it was shallower, and considerably smaller, probably used to keep gloves or something of the sort for the Quidditch teams, but it was still a bucket. She held it up in front of him proudly, still slightly jiggling with the effect of her once-impervious bladder.

"New arrangement," she said. "You go in _that_ corner with _your _bucket, and I'll go in _this _corner with _my _bucket. Is that all right with you?"

"Okay," he said with a complying little shrug, his eyes still playful by the light of their 'candle.' "But when we're done, we tell each other before turning around. Deal?"

"Deal." Lily put out her hand, and James shook it firmly. Both could not help but notice how perfectly his large, rough man-hand fit around her smaller, far more delicate woman-hand.

"All right." James took a preparatory breath, and said, "In that case, turn around, Lil."

"Erm, okay." Her otherwise pale cheeks flaming as she did so, and too-self-consciously began to shed her uniform grey skirt. Behind her, she could hear James do the same with his pants – besides the rustling movements of their clothes and a few steps to position by their respective buckets, the cupboard was completely and uncomfortably silent…

…until the sound of constrained piss being released at long, _long_ last was magnified a million times more in the claustrophobic atmosphere.

It was both sweet release and horrifying humiliation, to be able to piss in buckets in that tiny broom cupboard. Lily, for one, felt exposed, with her rear end mere inches from James's rear end; she couldn't think of anything much worse than having to do this, to be honest.

James was also terrorized by the surreal experience of pissing so close to the girl he'd been attempting unsuccessfully to chase since his first year at Hogwarts, but he tried not to think too hard about it. It wasn't worth the trouble; he was sure something else as equally awkward would occur later, and he had to save his mortification for that now-ambiguous event as well.

So, when he was finished, he quickly pulled his pants back up and re-buttoned them, taking care to do them up at a snail's pace. Lily appeared to be finished as well, since he could hear her skirt sweep against her legs; making sure he gave her enough time to situate, he slowly turned around to see if the coast was clear – and saw she was doing the same.

Both giggled rather awkwardly as they faced each other, James's hand back in his hair and both of Lily's behind her back. Lily's cheeks looked diseased for all their redness, but she bit her already-chewed lower lip nonetheless and said, "Erm…are you all right?"

"Much better, yeah," James replied, smiling slightly. "And you?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she confirmed, a discomfited smile playing on her lips as well.

"That's good," he said.

"It is."

A pause. Then –

"I knew you wouldn't be able to hold it," he couldn't resist saying in his signature I-told-you-so voice.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to either, which was why I made you use the bucket," she said.

"But I still knew it," he reminded her. "Didn't I?"

"Of course you did," she agreed tonelessly.

James smirked at her, but was quick to retreat back to his corner, pushing his bucket in front of him rather than next to him. "So…are you going back to sleep?" he asked conversationally.

"Maybe," Lily said, though she was momentarily cut of by a very large yawn. "But maybe I won't. We'll see."

"Okay." James emitted a yawn of his own. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," she confessed. "Are you?"

"Not really," he said. "Do you want to eat now or after a little while? Didn't Marly say in her note that she left us something?"

"She did, and after a little while works for me." Lily laid her head back against the wall, and curled up to hug her knees. James followed suit, partially because it was comfortable and partly because he, too, was struck with a few tired waves of his own. There seemed to be something about having a good pee after so many hours in a broom cupboard that made one extremely sleepy.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, their minds far away from the cubicle in which they were trapped in, when Lily suddenly wrinkled her nose.

The smell in their cupboard was not exactly one of fresh roses, and it was rather troublesome for her. She knew it had to be bothering him too – it was a strong scent, from _two people_ no less, and the space was limited enough to make it mildly unbearable.

She didn't want to talk to him about it, but she instantly knew she had to; it would drive her mad if she didn't. Pride came after piss-control, in her humble opinion.

So, without waiting for very long at all, Lily turned her head toward him, and asked him the very-important question on her mind at the moment: "Erm, James? What are we going to do with this fetid piss??"

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**A/N: Relax, loves. I know it's a Vanishing charm, and I'll use it, but in the next chapter. There's a reason for everything, remember?**


	24. Explosion Waiting to Happen

**A/N: Over 400 reviews already!! Gawd, you guys rock; thanks a million for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter, despite the hideously choppy ending I couldn't figure out at the end there, lol. xD**

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James looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. "Wait, what?"

"I said, what are we going to do with this fetid piss?" she repeated, blushing. "We can't just let it sit here, you know."

"Oh, yeah," he said, a spark of realization coming to his eyes as he also went faintly pink. "Why don't you just do a Vanishing spell? I didn't feel like pulling my wand out."

Lily blinked. How obvious – why hadn't she thought of that?

"Ah, right," she said, as though this thought had indeed already occurred to her. "Of course. So do you want me to do it?"

"Erm, yes," he said, squinting very slightly at her, as though she was faintly mad. "That's what I just said."

"Okay, okay," she said, blushing even redder and internally cursing her inability to think at this moment. "Sorry."

To her great displeasure, James's curious expression did not change as she produced her wand and muttered, "Evanesco," at her bucket, and his.

Instantly, the liquid vanished from both buckets. Satisfied, she tucked the wand away again, and looked shyly towards James – who still hadn't bothered to attempt hiding his interest.

"You seem tense," he noted.

"I'm not," she lied. "Not at all."

He could sense the untruthfulness behind the words, and she knew it too, but he chose not to confront her about it; he simply nodded, and said, "Okay."

Lily nodded as well, and went back to her curled up position in her corner. There was nothing else to say, really; and even if she did say something, she was sure to say it wrong. She didn't know what the matter was with her – she was acting so oddly tonight.

She couldn't keep her mouth shut, she couldn't stop arguing over every insignificant thing he said, she couldn't remember simple charms for simple predicaments; there had to be something wrong with her, but she had no idea what it was.

Perhaps it was simply this situation, and this broom cupboard. Perhaps all she had to do was get out of here and forget Marly ever locked them in. Perhaps…perhaps she needed to avoid James Potter at all costs for the rest of her life, and then she'd be all right.

Yes, then she was _sure _she'd be all right.

The two of them stared into space for a little while then, reflecting vaguely on loose, insignificant matters in the privacy of their own heads. It was not an uncomfortable silence though; in all honesty, it was the most comfortable silence they'd shared so far. It was pleasant, snug; similar to silences friends shared when they were merely enjoying each other's company in the evening, or silences swirling about under the atmosphere of a good book.

However, after a few minutes of reveling in this surprisingly comfortable ambiance, James decided to ask Lily softly, "So…what's the time?"

Lily checked her watch. "About eight forty-seven," she told him, perfectly civil.

James considered this. "I should be in Hogsmeade with Sirius right now," he mused aloud. "We were supposed to be sneaking out for a firewhiskey or two."

"I should be doing my homework," she mused aloud as well, only because he'd done it first. "I still need to finish the last of that Potions essay for Professor Slughorn."

James snorted. "I didn't do it."

"Mighty careless of you," Lily commented airily. "You ought to finish it – it's due in two days, and it's considerably longer than what he usually assigns us."

"I'll do it later," he said, his tone as laidback as ever. "Lily Evans, you are talking to the man who finished a Transfiguration essay, a Potions essay, _and _a History of Magic essay in one night. It was a Gryffindor record."

Lily's eyebrow rose. "What grades did you get?"

"An E, a P, and an A respectively," James told her proudly. "Last year. I don't really understand why I got the P though; Sirius and I did that essay together, using the same sorts of ideas, and he got an O. I think old Sluggy just hates me."

"To be fair, you _did _once call him a barmy old codger once when he was in ear-shot," Lily reminded him. "I wouldn't have liked you very much either, if I'd overheard you say that about me."

"I suppose you're right, even though teachers aren't really supposed to hold grudges," James said, "but you don't like me very much despite all the nice things I say to you, so you shouldn't be one to talk."

"They shouldn't, but they do anyway," Lily said, deciding to ignore the remark about her own behavior in his statement. "It's teacher tradition."

James appeared to be in-thought again as he completely disregarded her statement about teachers; he waited a few moments until after Lily finished speaking before he told her contemplatively, "It really reeks in here, you know."

Lily blinked a few times at him, slightly confused. "All right, well, thank you for sharing that random and unnecessary fact," she said sarcastically.

'Really, that James Potter,' she thought. 'He always knew _just _what had to be said at each particular moment.'

Although, now that he mentioned it, it _did _still sort of reek…

"I think we should do something about it," he declared promptly afterwards, as though he was making the biggest decision of his life for a crowd full of interested people.

"Erm, okay," Lily said rather unhelpfully. "What do you want to do about it?"

"Not sure," James said, bemused but undaunted as he looked around the broom cupboard. "Do you have any ideas?"

"No, not really," she said, observing him with something perplexed brewing within her emerald eyes.

James stood up then, running his hand through his hair (again) and poking around the shelves of spare Quidditch items, looking for an object neither of them could place. However, after about five minutes of him pacing and her gazing, James's face lit up.

"I've got it!" he said brightly.

"Brilliant," she said, looking up at him from where she was still sitting. "So what are you going to do?"

He put up his index finger to silence her, and groped in his pocket, presumably for his wand. When he found it, he showed it to her, and proceeded by pointing it at a spot just above her head.

Lily, somewhat wary, looked up to the point he was focused upon just in time to see a jet of light shoot out of his stick of wood and hit the wall. Starting, she leaned forward instinctively, only to see a small vine of flora – fresh white lilies – begin to grow along the shelves.

Pleased with his work, James conjured a few more of the same vines around the broom cupboard, although he kept them high above the "candle" so they wouldn't burst into flame, and he continued to do so until nearly the whole cupboard was decorated with the plants.

Lily watched as the flowers blossomed, shyly revealing their fragile, snowy petals before her very eyes; when he was satisfied with his work and sat down in his corner once more, Lily applauded him cheerfully.

"Lovely, lovely," she said with a grin. "And they're lilies – what a _wonderful_ choice."

James shrugged, grinning as well. "Yes, well, they _are _my favorite flowers," he said, winking, "and they just smell so damn good, I couldn't resist."

"Of course." She laughed at him, more at peace than she had been for quite a while by this point. "No, but really, it was a good idea. These do take away the smell effectively."

"Thanks," he said, his grin becoming rather sweet.

"You're welcome," she responded back, flushing as red as she'd been when she asked about the Vanishing charm.

He continued to smile at her for a moment or two, enjoying the abruptly-lightened atmosphere about them, before he asked her, "So…since it's nearly nine o'clock…are you hungry, Lily?"

"You know, I am," she said. "Shall we start looking for the things Marly said she left us?"

"Yeah, okay," James agreed. "I'm _starving_."

"Then why didn't you mention it earlier?" she inquired.

"Because eating on a full bladder is highly inadvisable – my mum told me that once," James explained. "Now hurry and help me find our dinner; my stomach is going to be the next to explode from lack of attention otherwise!"

Lily rolled her eyes playfully. "You're one big explosion waiting to happen, aren't you, James Potter?"

"Just help me, yeah?" was James's only response as he leaned over to search the bottom shelf between the two of them for any sign of Marly's promised food.

Lily had to work rather hard to hold down her laughter as she bent down to help him; honestly, Gryffindor men and their gargantuan eating habits…


	25. Misadventures in Dinner

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Little Miss Mischief and Mustardgirl1128 for my latest two death threats. Once again, hooray for death threats!!**

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It wasn't long before James unearthed a small, bulky, blue-fabric bag of Marly's in a corner of the cupboard. It had been hidden behind a large wooden crate, presumably for extra Quidditch balls, and James was utterly pleased to find it.

"Look, Lil!" he said excitedly, showing it to her. "It's dinner!"

Lily chuckled. "You're doing your acting-like-a-four-year-old thing again," she told him.

"And you're doing your caring-too-much-about-insignificant-shit thing again," James countered, nearly ripping the bag in his haste to open it. "I'm a naturally exuberant, loud, good-humored, and hungry human being – is that so difficult for you to accept?"

"I suppose, in a way, it kind of is," Lily admitted, rescuing the food bag from his animalistic grip. "You're not usually this…_exuberant_, as you put it, in class these days."

"I know I'm not," he said, attempting without triumph to snatch at the food bag again, which she took care to hold centimeters away from his searching fingers. "That's because I took the advice of a very smart young lady, who once informed me that I was a great, arrogant bullying toe-rag who has a head so big she was surprised my broomstick could still fly. I save my exuberance for after-class now."

There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, but it was not enough to completely mask the indecipherable emotion churning just behind it – something Lily did pick up on as she tucked a lock of her hair nervously behind her ear, her free hand still securing the bag.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Well, it's still a bit disconcerting. You're nearly seventeen after all; you're only a few months off of adulthood, and yet you prefer acting as though you're still thirteen and discovering the joys of hormones and a larger appetite."

James laughed out loud. "Lily, honestly; just because I prefer hanging about on the livelier side of life, and I like to have a bit more fun than you do, doesn't make me any less of a sixteen-year-old."

"When you're with me, it does," she insisted. "When I talk to you, I forget you're actually my age."

"That's because with _you_, Lily flower, I happen to be a little looser, and my growing-seriousness takes a bit of a holiday," he explained, the good-natured twinkle she'd seen previously dominating over his irises, just visible behind his glasses. "Even in fifth year, it was like that; it's just…I'm prone to goofing off for you. That's a fact by now."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Lily asked, choosing to ignore the age-old nickname he'd given her, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she blushed royally.

James mulled this over for no more than thirty seconds. "Definitely a good thing," he decided, with a nod and a grin that were somehow more affectionate than jokey. "Instead of thinking about gloomy things – like N.E.W.T.'s next year, exams, homework, marks, work, or life in general – I can think about the good stuff when I'm with you."

"The good stuff?" she questioned.

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully, "like…like the present, like making the most out of the moment we've got, like laughing our arses off just because we're alive and healthy and _here_. Like you, like me – like _us_. That sort of good stuff."

Lily couldn't help but giggle in a most teenager-like way, the inquisitive wonder sparking up in her emerald orbs. "James Potter, you are something else," she informed him, something uncharacteristically sweet about the way she smiled at him then.

"Maybe I am…" James said, the glow in his eyes dancing as he drew out the syllables, "…but you know, I probably am."

With this, he threw himself right over her lap, startling her and taking the food bag back in his hands because of her temporary lack of resistance. Lily shouted involuntarily as his warm weight sprawled over her, and pushed him away from her as he laughed plentifully, successfully managing to rip the bag completely to get to the food inside of it.

"Merlin, James!" she shrieked, her eyes sparkling.

He laughed at her, but otherwise ignored her reaction as he took each item out one by one, shoving it in her face to show it to her before moving on to the next. "She gave us these crackers," he said to her animatedly, holding them up, "and salami sandwiches, and _chocolate cake_, and grapes, and chicken…this is great!"

"Nice," Lily commented, rooting through the bag herself and pulling out two oranges. "At least she remembered that oranges are my favorite fruits."

"They are?" James asked with interest.

"Yes," Lily said. "And obviously, the chocolate cake was for both of us."

He chuckled. "Well, then she got it wrong – Sirius prefers chocolate, but I prefer vanilla…although I won't say no to this, of course."

"Of course you won't," she said with a smirk. "But either way…"

"I want to start with the chicken," James announced, cutting her off as he picked up a chicken leg. Something about the way he eyed the piece of food abruptly made Lily recall an image of a wolf about to devour a particularly succulent rabbit – it made her want to laugh again. She was, for whatever reason, feeling rather giddy tonight.

So, deciding to trust the more playful instinct hiding inside of her, she seized his chicken and neatly took it away before he could bite down on it. He ended up biting on empty air, like in a bad Muggle cartoon – and he was not at all happy about it.

"What was that for?" he demanded indignantly. "There's more chicken right here!"

"James, you were just pissing a few minutes ago," Lily reminded him, holding down a new wave of laughter with difficulty. "You can't handle food after pissing without washing your hands first, that's disgusting!"

He seemed ready to write off her warning and eat his chicken anyway, but he stopped and thought for a moment. The conclusion he reached didn't thrill him, judging by the look on his face when he spoke.

"Oh all right," he allowed grudgingly. "Spray me with water from your wand and I'll do the same for you, yeah?"

"We could just wash up in the buckets we'd used," suggested Lily.

"But spraying water is much more fun," James said with a grin. "Hit me!"

Lily smirked widely, teasingly, as she said, "Fine then. Hold your hands out."

Obediently, he did so, and she nonverbally cast her spell. Unfortunately, she'd been rather energized as she said it in her head, so the spray of water burst out a lot faster and harder than either of them had expected. Astonished, James fell back at the amount of water coming at him, his head colliding painfully with the door of the cupboard behind him, rivulets sliding down his face, hair, glasses. He looked mightily uncomfortable.

"I'm so sorry," Lily cried out immediately, although she still had to fight the itch to laugh hysterically at him despite his pain. "James, are you okay?"

She crawled slightly forward, attempting to get a look at James's head. He looked rather dazed, and was lying in a fairly awkward position on the ground. Her eyes wide, she leaned decimeters over him, hesitant to touch him but at the same time impatient to help, and a pair of tremendously enigmatic eyes met her own.

She was about to say something, do something, _anything_, when…

"Gotcha!" With a sudden burst of energy, James's impish smile was back, and his wand had appeared in his hand.

Uh oh.

The next thing she knew, a jet of water erupted from the end of his wand, and threw her to the back of the broom cupboard as hard as hers had pushed James.

Spitting out the water getting in her mouth, Lily tried to rub water out of her eyes and hair, but James cackled quite evilly as he sat up and held his wand out like a Muggle gun. "You'd best watch yourself, Lily Evans," he warned her mischievously, aiming between her eyes. "I have got killer aim."

Upon hearing this, Lily set her jaw – jokingly, but determined nonetheless – and said, "Oh, this means war, James Potter."

"Excellent!" With this, and another loud Gryffindor-esque grunt, James said his nonverbal again, and began spraying her viciously once more, making sure to shoot her in a variety of places to soak her as thoroughly as possible.

However, this time, Lily was ready – with a startlingly loud grunt of her own, she sprayed him with her wand as well. Both screeched upon contact with all the water, but that only made the efforts made by each redouble as they continued on. It was difficult for James to see properly, because his glasses were soaked, but he didn't need to see; all he had to do was listen to see which spots he pointed at invoked the loudest screams.

The tactic worked well – he was nearly deafened by the screaming he received.

Lily was completely drenched, her soggy garments hanging heavily on her small frame, but she was having the time of her life as she managed to nail James squarely in the eyes as he took his glasses off to shake the water from him. He made a variety of faces, and he expressed several thoroughly naughty phrases because of it, but he was more than happy to start aiming for her green eyes the moment he could (somewhat) see where she was – and she was more than happy to start her screaming again the moment he did.

He hadn't been lying; James really did have killer aim.

At last though, after several minutes of continually dousing each other with water and making a general mess of the broom cupboard they still had to endure for several hours, Lily – giggling and attempting to wipe her wet hands on her wetter shirt – finally put her hands up in surrender and shouted over the torrent of water, "James, James, I give up, please stop!"

"What was that, Lily? You want more water?" She could almost hear the roguish beam in his voice. "Of course I can do that!"

And he did.

"Honestly, James, stop it!" she requested again, laughing and sputtering more water, her hands attempting to shield her face. "I'm down, I'm down, you've won, are you happy?"

"Sure?"

"YES!"

"All right then," James allowed, his tone both disappointed and vibrant.

"Thank you!" Lily said, coughing violently as she tried wringing her hair to rid it of water. James thankfully did stop the water; and, when Lily got a look at him, he was in as bright of a mood as she was – and he was as soaked as she was.

"I told you to watch yourself," he said, not even attempting to suppress his amusement. "My aim is fantastic – I'm a Chaser after all."

"You sod, James," Lily accused him with a grin of her own, as she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked around them. The floor was fairly clear of water, since a lot of it had seeped into the corridor outside by way of the tiniest of cracks under the door, but it was still rather damp.

"What? I warned you against having a water fight with me, you can't say I didn't," James said.

"No, no, I'm upset because we just got our dinner all wet!" Lily said despairingly, although her eyes were as fervent as ever as she held up the wet chicken leg she'd confiscated from James a few minutes back.

"Did we really?" James asked, his eyes wide as he began wildly pawing through the food he'd left between him and Lily on the floor.

She was right – all of it was soaked to the point where it wouldn't have any more flavor, even if they magically dried it.

"Fuck," James murmured as he sullenly showed her the watery, brown remains of the chocolate cake they were going to share. "Our dinner is wet; and I was hungry, too!"

"Brilliant," Lily grumbled, some of her own wild energy leaving her as well as she attempted to find something still edible. "There's nothing here we can eat anymore."

"Fuck!" James repeated, shaking his head so the water droplets hanging on the ends of his hair began peppering the shelves and the girl in front of him. "But hey, at least we're clean."

"Yes, there's that," Lily agreed with a sigh, taking the food items he was holding and wrapping them up in the torn, moist remains of Marly's blue bag. "But I think we ought to dry up; should I do it?"

"Erm, yeah, I can't remember that Drying Charm from last week off the top of my head," James agreed, taking what was supposed to be their life-saving rations and tucking them in a corner of the cupboard to deal with at a later time.

"I remember it," Lily volunteered.

"Of course you do," James muttered, though with less bitterness than he'd had when he previously proclaimed something of this type.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing, nothing," James corrected himself hastily. "Go on."

"All right," Lily said easily, dismissing the matter almost immediately as she picked up her dripping wand from the floor next to her. Wiping it off with her hands, she pointed it at her own clothes, and said, "Sicco."

Instantly, warmth spread all over her body as her clothes heated and dried themselves out; it was welcome, after the cold-water fight she'd just indulged in. Now, it was only her hair that was wet and stringy, but she could take care of that at a later time.

With a second, content sigh, she looked back up at James, who was turning to look at her at the same moment; when their eyes met, Lily's smile was genuine as she again said, "Sicco," and watched as he dried out as well.

"Thanks Lil," he said, smiling back at her as he cleaned off his glasses on his freshly waterless shirt. "But, hey, is there anything you could do about my hair?"

"I can't think of it right now, but even if I could, I wouldn't do it," Lily said. "I like your hair as it is – it's sitting flat, and not sticking up in the back!"

James let out a bark of a laugh. "Yes, isn't it exciting?" he asked, smirking. "But all right, if you insist, I'll leave my hair alone…"

"Thanks," she said, her grin taking on that uncharacteristic sweetness once more.

"No problem." James gave her a salute, which made her chuckle. "But you know, I really think we ought to see if Marlene left us anything else, because to be quite honest, I'm about ready to die with hunger if I don't get _something _into my systems right now."

"Erm, I doubt we've got anything else, but we can look because I'm rather famished as well," Lily offered, hastily rearranging her features to appear normal and, well, _not-sweet_ as she got down to her knees. "So where did you find the first bag?"

"Over there," James said, oblivious as ever, gesturing to the corner of the broom cupboard closest to her as he also got to his knees to crawl over. "Poke around a little; I already moved the big box that was covering it, but there might be more we have to move."

Lily nodded and began to look about with James. He was right next to her as they searched, his weight warm but his skin cool to the touch as he brushed by her several times to move things around. It was an odd sensation, being this close to a boy with enough history to fill a textbook with her, but at the same time, she couldn't find it in herself to mind it.

She searched with him quietly, trying not to think too hard about their proximity as she pulled things out and put them back in when she was finished; he, too, was entirely focused upon looking for something to eat, and was not interested in anything else. Unfortunately, though, neither of them had any luck – until, a few minutes later, Lily uncovered a second, black bag half a meter away.

"See here, James, I found something," she told him elatedly, pointing at the bag nestled between two boxes. "It looks rather bulky; I can't imagine what she might have given us."

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" With a wide smile, James grabbed the bag from its spot and ripped it open, as he'd done to the other, and the contents of it spilled out across the moist floor with a clatter.

Lily and James both sat there then, motionless as they took in the solid presence of these items in wordless horror, until Lily closed her eyes and muttered in a low tone, "Merlin, I'm going to _kill_ that girl."

For now, on the floor between them in the middle of their airless broom cupboard, were supplies for Marly's (cliché and absolutely ridiculous) idea for a romantic evening: two bottles of blood-red wine nicked from the kitchens, two wine-glasses, a Muggle gramophone she had smuggled in at the start of the year, and a record to go along with it. Worse still, the record had not lost the piece of Spellotape Marly had stuck to it, reading in her monstrous scrawl, "Love Songs – For Broom Cupboard."

Lily groaned, the whimsical fun of the previous ten minutes evaporated completely, as James worked very, _very _hard to hold down a snort or twenty; this could not get any worse.

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**A/N: Lol more explanation in the next chapter - because I do need to provide a few! Just hang tight, I hope for an update pretty soon.**

**And thanks so much for all your brilliantly kind reviews as well, luvs; very much appreciated. Keep 'em coming, and I'll do my best to update this ASAP.**


	26. Almost Romantic

**A/N: I know, I know, it's been a tremendous wait for this chapter, but I'm currently on vacation & the Internet cost in Europe is outrageous…hence lack of update. Give me 6 days and I'll be efficient again.**

**I was also re-planning this story today, because my first outline wasn't working, and I've decided for ****44 chapters instead of 42****. That's because of the way I changed my initial ending, lol, so make of that what you will.**

**And despite Wikipedia's help, my knowledge on how record players work is rather sketchy; so forgive me for the mistakes I probably made. Enjoy!**

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"This is horrible!" Lily raged, glaring at the gramophone and wine. "Honestly, I cannot _believe _the nerve of her! How could she do this? How does she think I'm not going to murder her on the spot for doing this?"

"Really, Lily, it's not too bad," James tried to console her, his lips twitching. "She just gave us some wine and music."

Lily snatched up the record and examined it closely, only to release another wail of frustration. "She didn't give just _any _kind of music though," she told him, "she gave us Frank Sinatra's 'Music for Young Lovers'!"

It took James every ounce of self-control he possessed not to burst out laughing at the title. "Who's Frank Sinatra?" he decided to ask her instead.

"One of the best Muggle singers to exist," Lily explained with mild impatience. "The man is brilliant, but he specializes in…well, jazzy love songs. Marly knows that."

"Luckily, I like jazz," James said with a wink. He picked up the gramophone and pried the record out of Lily's frozen hands, examining them both, when Lily then noticed a piece of parchment lying on the floor where the contraption had been.

At once, she recognized the loopy cursive as Marly's; she picked it up as James looked on with interest, and read it aloud in a shaky, enraged voice:

_Dear Lily and James,_

_You found the gramophone and the record! Good job!!_

_The point of it being kind of hard to find was that you would have to be nice to each other and look for it together. I hope it worked out like that – but it probably did, because you're reading this message right now!_

_So, Lily, you probably figured out already that the record is Frank Sinatra – Music for Young Lovers. I thought it was __extremely__ fitting, if you know what I mean, and I'm sure you'll like it if you haven't heard it yet, James. It's a great record; Lily can tell you all about it._

_Now, I'm aware Muggle electronics don't work in the castle, but I gave this to you anyway because Lily, I __know__ you know the spell to make them work. You did it that one time…in the dormitory…remember? I don't know it, so I couldn't do it for you, but I'm almost positive you'll put it on anyway, despite how furious you most likely are at present._

_Enjoy the wine, too; I went through a lot of trouble to get that for you two (i.e. I owe Sirius any one favor he desires for his services – which is ominous-sounding)._

_I think that's about all I had to say…other than good luck, and I'll see you in the morning! I'm going to be busy loving my life while you're in there (being friends, I hope) because I don't know how much more of it I'm going to live once Lily gets a hold of me._

_Good night, sleep tight, and don't get too drunk in there!_

_Marly_

"She's right – she won't be living much longer once we're out of here," Lily breathed portentously.

"Oh come on, Lil, it's not that big of a deal," James said, his smile wide. "I've never heard Frank Sinatra – and hungry as I am, wine is going to be more than enough to satisfy me tonight. It'll be fine; it might even be fun."

Lily chewed sulkily on her bottom lip, disbelieving, and continued to glare at the gramophone. He really couldn't understand why she was doing so; the record was a sweet, albeit amusing touch, and the wine was definitely appreciated – particularly since they no longer had anything to eat. However, saying so wouldn't be a good idea when she was in this sort of a mood, so he simply watched Lily consider the matter for a few minutes, chewing her lip darkly.

Eventually, though, she looked tentatively at him, and asked, "Do you…_want_ me to put on the record?"

"Yes," he said simply. "Might as well put Marly's efforts to some use, you know?"

"It would serve her right if we didn't…" she muttered.

"Lily." James smiled wryly at her. "It can't be as horrid a situation as you make it out to be. I know the charm as well, so why don't you set up the record and I'll take care of the rest?"

"Okay," Lily agreed grudgingly, accepting the gramophone and record from James and setting it down next to her to figure out how it worked. It was an older one – Marly had once told her it belonged to her parents. There was an enormous, rather crude turn-bar on the side of it to power it, something Lily wasn't used to, but could more or less work out.

She glanced once more at James, whose face was scrunched up as he recalled the proper technique to execute the tricky spell – and then sighed as she slipped the record in.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

"Yeah, hang on." He thought for another moment, before nodding and saying the spell nonverbally, pointing it at the record player Lily was holding. It shuddered slightly in her hand, but only for a second or two before it became normal once more. Satisfied, James grinned at her.

"So how do you work this thing?" he inquired, coming closer towards her to take a look at the gramophone.

"Well, you basically turn this a few times," Lily said, demonstrating, "set the needle on the disc, and that's good for a song or two. You keep doing it until you're through – it's a bit tiresome, but that's how it works."

"Fascinating," James said thoughtfully, surveying it. "I must hand it to those Muggles; that's rather ingenious."

Lily smiled. "We do get along without magic, you know; we're not complete savages."

"Well, some more than others," he said lightheartedly, making her smack him moderately on the arm. "But hey, is it possible to charm this thing to keep turning by itself, so we don't have to do it?"

"I suppose we could," Lily said, shrugging. "Motoris."

At once, the turn-bar began to revolve, and the needle sputtered briefly before the opening notes of the first track began to play. The sounds – so familiar to Lily, from nights at home when her mum would put this record on and make dinner with it in the summers – began to fill the small space with the best of irresistible jazz.

And, with the candle they'd already lit and the lilies James had conjured around the place, the atmosphere about them was almost…well, almost _romantic_. She was sure Marly would have enjoyed this thoroughly.

"This is rather good, Marlene was right," he remarked with a silly smile, his thoughts seemingly on her best friend as well as he childishly shook his head along with the beat. "What's this one called?"

"My Funny Valentine," Lily told him reminiscently, a smile coming to her own face, despite the uncomfortably sweet atmosphere, as the memories flooded back to her. "It was my mum's favorite. She'd make sure it was the song playing when my dad came in from work, and they'd dance to it right in the doorway. It was their little game – Dad used to be so annoyed if Mum chose to bug him one night and put on something else, and he would chase her around the kitchen with a frying-pan until she swore she'd put it on. It was the highlight of my and my sister Petunia's evening."

"Really?" James's smile widened into something of a grin. "You know, Lily, I'd dance to this with you too, if there was more room in here. It's infectious."

She laughed. "Like I'd dance with you, James Potter."

"You would," he said, "because I am a damn fantastic dancer, Lily."

"Yes, yes, keep flattering yourself by thinking that," she said, smirking teasingly.

"Honest, I am," he persisted. "Maybe some wine would change your mind…" With this, he scrambled for one of the bottles, as Lily giggled.

"Merlin, James, you would have to give me _at least_ twenty pints of that if you want me drunk enough to dance with _you_," she said as James popped open the top of the bottle.

"Well, we've got to get to twenty _some_how, right?" He took one of the wine glasses, filled it with some wine, and handed it to her before filling one for himself as well. "There you are. The first of many to come, I promise."

Lily accepted her drink with a smile and a nod, and was about to take her first sip, when James suddenly stopped her. "No, no, I think we ought to make a toast first," he announced. "We're having wine, after all; it's practically required."

"All right then, what do you intend to make a toast to?" she asked him, playing along. "Marly's untimely death the moment she opens that cupboard door?"

James chuckled, but said, "No, no…I think we ought to toast to honesty. Honesty, wine, and…and Frank Sinatra."

"Deal," Lily said, her eyes bubbly and sparkling already. "To honesty, wine, and Frank Sinatra."

She raised her glass, and he clinked his neatly with hers, before they each took a small sip of the wine. It was rather tasty – Marly had at least picked an excellent choice. James finished his in his second gulp, but Lily preferred to take dainty sips as she surveyed her companion's quick consumption.

"Don't have any more for a bit," Lily told him once she'd finally finished her glass and he reached for the bottle. "You'll get drunk faster – wait intervals and you won't."

"Who said I didn't want to get drunk?" James flashed her a smile. "Things are always more interesting when one is properly intoxicated, I say. Remus has told us the strangest things when we coax enough whiskey into him."

"Yes, well, I'm going to be holding onto my sobriety for as long as I can, so don't get your hopes up too high," she informed him.

"How boring," he complained. "I think we should continue our game of truth when we're at least a little drunk; you're more honest and hell of a lot looser when you've got some alcohol into you. And you, Lily Evans, could use a bit more looseness in your life."

"I have something against drinking too much wine just because a foolish young man asks me to," Lily told him, raising her eyebrows challengingly.

"Do you also have something against having a bit of fun, too?" he inquired. "Because foolish as this young man might be, he does know how to have fun – and fun is as important as work. You've got to let go sometimes, you know? If you don't, you're…well, you're going to go insane. I'm trying to help you here."

He offered her the bottle. "Join me. Let's have more wine and continue Truth. I believe it was…your question we were on?"

Lily looked distrustfully at the wine bottle, innocently sitting in James's hand, and thought about the consequences of her actions – something she'd been taught to do since she was about eight years old.

If she drank, she would get supremely inebriated within a short amount of time, due to her intolerance with alcohol – she would be hyper enough to bounce off the walls for a little while, would do things she would later regret, and then crash where she lay the moment her body demanded a rest.

But, if she _didn't _drink, she would indeed remain sober, but the consequences might end up being worse than if she wasn't, because Jamesmight end up taking them into his enormously questionable hands…

"All right, James," she said against her better judgment, taking the bottle from him and pouring them a generous amount of wine each. "All right; drink this, and I'll give you my starting question."

James's beam could not have been bigger even if he wanted it to be as Lily gave him his glass. "Excellent."


	27. Lily for your Musings?

**A/N: Yes, and she's alive from the world of the living dead!!**

**Lol so here I am, yes, and I'm currently in Dubai for a few hours before I head to Pakistan (and Internet) for 3 weeks. My laptop battery is dying before my eyes, & I should be eating breakfast, but I'm putting this up instead. Bad me...but I owed it to you guys. You've made me feel so loved and appreciated when I got to check my email finally. :3 Hugs all around.**

**I had dedications, but we'll save them for when my laptop has more battery and I'm done eating...so I'll address them next chapter. ****Thanks a million for being patient for this (vacations are so intrusive on the writing process, fun as they are otherwise), and I hope to be a bit more prompt very, very soon!**

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"Okay," Lily said, feeling pleasantly warm and hazy as she finished off her second glass of wine, "so here's my question…if you could pick anyone else in the world to be trapped with you in this broom cupboard, who would you choose?"

James finished off his third glass of wine as she spoke, but was quick to say, "What kind of a question is that, Lil?"

"A truthful one," she informed him. "You're stuck in here with me right now, aren't you? So, if Marly was to lock you in with someone else, who would you want her to trap?"

"Merlin, I don't know," he said, grinning. "Who would _you _pick?"

"No, no, this is _your _question, James," she insisted. "Answer it."

"Erm…" He pulled on his favorite thinking face, his fingers right back into his hair. "What if I don't have an answer?"

"You _need _to have an answer," she said rather forcefully. "You've made me answer every single one of your harebrained questions, so you need to answer all of mine."

"Okay, so since this is a game of truth, I'll be honest," he said after mulling over her request for a few seconds, looking rather serious by the rich golden flicker of light coming from their candle. "If anyone else asked me this question, I'd say without hesitation that I'd pick _you_. So if _you _ask me, when the fate is already occurring, then I don't have an answer – it's a mute point."

Lily blushed in spite of herself. "You'd pick me? Seriously?"

"Of course I'd pick you," he said, surprised by _her _surprise. "You've always been something of a…an unsolved mystery to me, you know what I mean? Hence wishing to be locked in a broom cupboard with you."

He gestured to them both, an unreadable smile on his face. "And, because I happen to have fantastic luck, my wish was granted."

Just as he said this, the song that had been playing on the record finished with a final, gentle note – Lily couldn't help but sardonically comment in the privacy of her own mind that the timing was simply_ too_ magnificent for words – and the silence before the next song began was lengthier than she would have liked. She suspected it was only so because of her own insecurity, but that didn't exactly help her cause.

She surveyed him for a moment or two, as he did the same for her, and she considered what about him was suddenly causing something in her stomach to flap violently, like a great winged thing. She had no theories (none that she liked, anyway) as to why this could be, and this bothered her; she didn't like being in a situation she couldn't analyze. It maddened her; but mostly, it frightened her.

She didn't want to stumble in the dark into something she didn't understand – if she didn't know the consequences, who was to say that the route she was taking was safe?

But, seeing as he was _right there_ as these thoughts sprinted through her wrung-out mind, she shook her head slightly to clear it and picked up the wine to refill her glass, a small smile visibly playing on her lips by the firelight. She offered some to a very impressed James, who accepted, and they both sipped their wine as the next song kicked up.

"What, did I say something wrong?" he asked as he took a second gulp.

"No, why?" Her voice was quiet – and not nearly innocent enough.

"I dunno," he said, picking up on this but choosing not to elaborate on it. "Something about the way you neatly avoided comment on my response."

Lily shrugged, taking another sip of the wine and hoping her cheeks weren't as pink as they felt. "You didn't say anything wrong," she said, her tone a little stronger. "I was just…just musing upon the matter, that's all."

James observed her for around thirty seconds with casual, warm curiosity over his wine-glass, his handsomely hazel eyes inviting and inscrutable with the flame flickering in them like a photograph, before he said lightly, "Well, in _that _case…a lily for your musings?"

He reached a few inches to his left, gently plucked a lily off the vine above his head, and oh-so-carefully tucked it behind her ear. His fingers brushed by her pale, tender flesh and left a strange tingle long after his hand retreated, but his smile was the same – friendly but firm, treating her with kindness but pushing her for the hesitant candor he was sure he could worm out of her.

It was such a smile.

Lily swallowed away her analysis hastily, but took the flower out from her ear with the utmost care and began to finger the thin petals in her lap, keeping her eyes shyly on him. "Well…I was musing on why you would want to pick _me_ when you could pick anyone else to be in this broom cupboard with," she said truthfully.

"And what was your opinion on it?" he asked.

"I hadn't gotten to a reasonable conclusion yet," she said. "But if I do, I'll let you know."

His gaze did not change as he continued to assess her over the lip of his wine glass, but he took another hearty sip and let the set of his mouth become a bit cheerier. "I'm counting on that," he said, changing the chary mood into something far more amiable, as only he could.

"All right," Lily agreed, relieved as her stomach unclenched (although she could somehow not remember it clenching in the first place) and she drained the rest of her drink. "I will, but for the time being…do you have a question for me?"

James looked thoughtful, but oddly ominous as he half-smiled at her and said, "You know, I _do _have a question for you."

"Let's hear it, then." Lily's expression was oddly gutsy, something it had not been for a very long time in the broom cupboard, as she ran her hand down the smooth glass of the wine bottle – restful, but still tensely preparing for whatever it was that made James Potter look so extraordinarily worrying before her.


	28. Being a Bore

**A/N: I know, I know, I ought to be on a noose by now for waiting so long to post this next chapter, but I **_**couldn't **_**update – the Internet on my grandmother's main computer did work, as I knew it would, but the Internet on the laptop, which has my writing on it, did not. Hence, I could do nothing about it – and the brainwaves I did have were far too much trouble. But don't worry, I've been writing this story incessantly regardless of not posting and updates are going to come to you mostly every day now, since I'm home. Please don't come after me with pitchforks?**

**The dedication I'd put off is to death threats in general – the death threats I have received already and the death threats I may receive in the future. The prospect of dying prematurely over a few late passages of prose has never been so amusing.**

**And in case you were wondering – yes, it's was horribly hot in Pakistan, but I've still had a lovely vacation although I'm utterly delighted to be home again! You should've seen me dancing around my house singing songs at the top of my lungs, lol...**

**Thanks again for your reviews and endless patience, darlings! I do appreciate both!**

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"So…" James began, downing about half of his wine as he dawdled and attempted to figure out the best way to phrase his feelings.

"So…" Lily repeated, prompting him as she helped herself to a modest mouthful of the red liquid. The music behind them was softer, quieter – it didn't feel right to chug her drink as James was. "What's the question?"

"The question is this…" he said, his hand in his hair, the light from the candle playing in such a way on his face that she could see all the conflict in his eyes. "Hey, do you want any more wine?"

"Is that the real question, or is it a simple although abrupt and badly-timed query out of politeness?" Lily wanted to know.

"A simple although abrupt and badly-timed query out of politeness, because I want more myself," he said, reaching for the wine and refilling his glass so that it was full once more. "It was also a bit of an unexpected diversion for me…my question was not a very good one, and I'm hoping to think of another within the next few seconds."

"Well, because I'm so utterly _kind_, quite unlike you, I'm not going to ask what the question was," Lily announced, smirking. "I'll let it go."

"How noble of you." James chuckled, wobbling slightly under the gesture and getting perilously close to knocking over the "candle." His cheeks were getting quite pink. "So, wine then?"

"No, thanks. I don't particularly want to get drunk at the moment," she informed him. "And as I'm feeling a little bit too warm and content for my own good, I ought to finish this and stop." She proceeded by polishing off the remaining contents of her glass and setting it down next to her.

"How annoyingly dull," James remarked, taking the wine bottle from beside her and happily refilling his glass. "What time is it, anyway?"

Lily checked her watch. "Erm…about nine forty-seven."

"See? The night is far too young." His eyes twinkled. "I _dare_ you to have some more wine with me."

"I don't take your dare."

"Oh, stop being such a bore," he said, half-teasingly and half-seriously. "Go on, I'm serious; have more wine. Get a little…warmer, as you put it."

"If you want to play a decent game of truth with me, James, you're going to have to realize that I can't drink anymore," she informed him. "I'm…odd when I'm drunk. No fun at all."

"On the contrary, I'd reckon you're a _lot_ more fun when you're drunk," he said. "Odd is good – odd is _very_ good, in fact."

He regarded her rather seriously over his glass, despite his wobbly grip on the material. "How many times have you really drunk yourself to the point of being seriously intoxicated, Lily? Honestly?"

"Shall I count this as your question for Truth?"

James considered this, and presently nodded with abundant exuberance. "Yes, all right. So that means you're obligated to answer very truthfully – even if your response is as pitiful as I think it is."

Lily threw him her Look, but it was a lot more good-humored than it had been the last time she used it – something he did notice but didn't point out aloud. "James, really; why do people always assume I'm some nun who's got a bigger list of don'ts than do's? Just because I don't do it every other Saturday night, doesn't mean I don't go out and let my hair down with my friends when I need a break."

"Then do tell – what kinds of wild nights have you had through your years, Lil?" he inquired, the mischief sparkling wickedly in his eyes with the limited light as he scooted a little closer to listen. The music was building almost too conveniently along with him.

She pulled on a playful thinking face, although her heart was beating a little faster than usual. "Erm…to answer your original question first, I've gotten beautifully drunk about four times in my life so far –"

"Better than I expected, but still pitiful," James decided definitively.

"Hang on, hang on, I have a story for you," Lily told him, grinning slightly as Frank Sinatra held a particularly long, climactic note from the record player. "It was last year, actually – I think you would have enjoyed it."

"Would I? What happened?"

Lily giggled gently at the thought, but said, "Well, it was the end of the year, right? O.W.L. exams had just finished and we had a lot of extra energy to spare, so Marly, Alice, and I went down to The Three Broomsticks together."

"How did you get drunk at The Three Broomsticks?" he asked. "You were sixteen at the time – still underage."

"Ah, but you forget that the bartender was thicker than a chocolate milkshake and was already dealing with other drunk seventh-years," Lily said with faint, but apparent, triumph. "And we looked old enough to be seventeen – we were just three extra girls, who really cared? So Marly had the brilliant idea to squeeze some firewhiskey out of him, and Alice and I agreed almost at once."

She laughed again. "What a night. We had to have had…I dunno…eight, nine medium-sized mugs each?"

James's eyebrows went up, impressed, as the song began winding down to a close. "That's rather a lot – you really stomached it all?"

"Yes, I did," Lily said, her proud expression sporting impishness he had never seen before. "It was marvelous…they started playing some very obnoxious music, too, and although Alice and I could barely stand properly without falling over, we climbed up on a table and started singing very loudly along with the song. Marly was cheering us on, the rest of the bar was cheering us on – even the bartender was cheering us on." Lily snickered. "I suppose we should've just thanked our lucky stars no Hogwarts students recognized us. We made quite a commotion though; it was brilliant."

James couldn't help but chortle aloud into his glass at the mere thought of such a scene. "Did you really?!"

"Hell yes." Lily threw her head back with a contented smile and rested it against the back of the cupboard for a moment before facing James again. "For _hours_, that's what we were doing…we didn't even know all the songs, but we just danced regardless. We would've pole-danced if someone told us to, it was that bad. I don't remember how long it was or what all we did, because I crashed on the floor and had to have my equally drunk friends drag me back up to the castle somehow, but I think we fell off the table several times. I had plenty of bruises when I woke up in the morning."

James whistled. "I'm sad to say I underestimated you, Lily. They ought to make a…one of those television programme about you – Good Girls on Good Whiskey, or something like that." He laughed loosely at the thought. "Haha…so maybe you _do_ know how to have fun."

"Of course I do," Lily said with a smirk and a wave of her hand, feeling a highly eccentric layer of near-pride surge pleasantly under her skin like a hot spring nonetheless. "You know, on another drunken occasion of mine, Alice told me that she dared me to snog Marly for five seconds…and she swears that I did."

James blanched, nearly choking on the sip of wine he had been taking as a result as the song ended and the next one started up. "You snogged _Marly_?" he asked incredulously.

"It's been _claimed_ that I have," Lily told him hastily, blushing furiously. "But I was drunk, as I said, and Marly doesn't remember it either – it happened a couple of months before my table ordeal. It doesn't mean a thing, if you've got judgments forming on me."

"No, no, I wouldn't care if you were a lesbian," James said, shaking his head in the manner of a wet dog. Then, after thinking it over for a moment, he amended, "Well…okay, I'd be a _little _disappointed, if not devastated, but regardless – if that's how you swing, that's how you swing."

Lily gave James a little shove in the arm, flushing deeply. "Stop it," she said. "I don't think I did…but the point is, I'm strange when I'm drunk. You don't want me drunk. Especially when you can't run screaming from this cupboard."

"You know, you really ought to leave that to _me _to decide," James said, taking Lily's glass and filling it nearly to the brim with wine, being careful not to shake too much as he did so. "After these intriguing stories, I think I ought to test you out – see if you really are as legendary as you claim you are."

Lily groaned. "Isn't my word enough?" She definitely didn't like where this was going; the look on James's face was one she recognized from years past. It meant that he was stuck; he wasn't going to budge from his sentiments now. He was going to get her drunk or die trying, essentially; it was fanatical, for an issue as seemingly tiny as this, but such trifling points had never bothered James…although it did bother Lily quite frequently.

"No, your word alone is never going to be _nearly_ enough," James said, half-smiling. "So now you've basically dug yourself into a nasty little hole here – you're obligated to have some wine. Honest; get drunk for memorable-time-number-five. I _dare _you."

"Like I said, I don't take your dare," she insisted, an almost flirtatious smile on her lips. She, in truth, wasn't even aware of her own flirtation – she was just trying to worm some decent pleas out of him because it amused her. It didn't appear that way, though, and James took it for what it was – with a very, very dangerous, wide grin.

So, continuing to grin, he tilted his head back and poured his full glass of wine (messily) down his throat before forcing her glass sloppily back into her hand with a small belch, naughtiness emanating from every pore in his skin. "I don't think you have any more choice in the matter." His eyes glittered. "So, are you ready to show me just how crazy you can be when you're on alcohol?"

Lily smiled reluctantly, and took a temperate swig of wine, quietly weighing her options – or, rather, her _option_. "Well, like you said – I suppose I don't have any more choice in the matter."

His grin was wide enough to even strain the muscles of his face and cheeks; and although they were the only two in the cupboard, he held the bottle high above his head as though auctioning it off, and asked in an announcer-type voice, "Wine-chugging competition, then, anyone?"


	29. To Spill or Not to Spill

**A/N: You were all so very excited for the wine-chugging, and I know that, but I'm afraid to say I'm going to be disappointing you. Again. I seem to be doing that a lot lately, for which I'm very sorry, but there you go…here's this chapter, and try not to groan too much at me, yeah?**

* * *

"You must be mad, James, I am _not _going to have a wine-chugging competition with you," Lily informed him firmly over the jazzy notes of the number currently being belted out of the gramophone.

"Yes you are, and no, I'm not mad," James insisted. "It's fun – Sirius and I do it all the time in the dormitory. Sirius usually ends up winning, but I'm a close second; my record was eleven and a half glasses in a minute before I got sick all over the floor."

"No, no, no," Lily refused. "I'm _not _going to drink so much wine in such a small amount of time, it's positively barbaric. I thought…I thought we could just sip at it and…and just talk, or play Truth like we were going to, o-or something like that tonight. Do something…q-quieter. Nicer." Her voice began to taper embarrassedly by the end of her statements, and she blushed royally upon saying them, but she kept her eye contact steadfastly in line with his anyway, as his expression settled for a very quizzical arrangement in response.

"You want to just…sit around?" he asked with an obvious note of disbelief, although he took careful note of the way she said those alienating structures of words.

"Well, yes," she said softly, tucking her hair restlessly behind her ear. Her stance was in complete contrast to the lively song Frank Sinatra was singing from beside her. "I dunno…I want to _enjoy _the evening, you know? I don't want to waste it away on a high I won't even remember tomorrow."

"We're in a broom cupboard," he reminded her almost flatly. "How do you enjoy an evening in a broom cupboard? We've got wine, we've got time, we've got potential to go a little crazy…I don't see why we can't take advantage of this."

"We got off to a…a pretty _rocky_ start at the beginning," Lily said carefully, thoughtfully – hesitantly. She swallowed. "And…well, we found a balance, you know what I mean? Now…now we don't have the balance anymore, and I…I t-think I want to find it again."

"We lost the balance because you were became mysteriously pissy when I told you that I trusted you after my story about Janey," he reminded her, despite being passively intrigued by her abrupt change in pace. She _was _much more honest once a little wine got into her cautious systems; how interesting. "But if you want to talk instead of chugging wine…then how about you tell me the reasoning behind that pissiness?"

"Is that even a word?" Lily wrinkled her nose.

"I've decided it is, and don't change the subject," James said as evenly as the wine would allow him. "You've got absolutely nothing to lose by coming clean right now – tell me."

"No," Lily objected, her nose still slightly wrinkled as she surveyed him almost incredulously. "James, we are in a _broom cupboard_, as you said; and…and I can't just _say _how I'm feeling on demand, as though I can turn it on and off so easily. It…it doesn't happen like that with me."

James's eyes flickered with odd knowingness in the candlelight while Sinatra's melody galloped almost pointlessly along. "Does it happen at all? That's what I'm wondering."

She did a double-take. "What do you mean, _does it happen at all_?"

"I mean, do you ever _say _how you're feeling without playing any games?" he repeated patiently for her, the flicker strengthening to something of a small flame resembling that in their 'candle.' "Do you ever forget about the things you've set yourself on believing for a few minutes and spill your secrets for someone out of pure trust? Do you ever…take risks that could prove to be deadly, just for the hell of it?"

"You've just had your turn; what kinds of questions are those?" Lily asked, her gems of emerald green beginning to develop a flicker of their own – a flicker of inexplicably enormous apprehension.

"Honest ones – real ones, if you want," he said, almost mocking her with his sharply contrasting matter-of-factness as he refilled his glass of wine (with shaking fingers) and took a generous sip. "Questions I've pondered…questions I'd like the answers to."

Lily paused for a few moments in stunned incredulity, letting the chorus take over temporarily behind her, before she said in a curious voice, "I will never understand how you can take such complicated matters with such lightness."

"I prefer putting them into clear daylight, you see," he said, waving his wine glass (which was still being rapidly drained) with his wrist's flourish. "I don't like to obscure things under layers of conditions – call me naïve, but the world doesn't really have to be that complex. So I say what I'm thinking and only what I'm thinking. Easy."

She mulled on this, though she did not follow his act of drinking as she did so. "But…what if you can't explain it, because it's _not_ easy? What if it's really not something anyone else is meant to know?"

"Then you're being insecure," he said simply, finishing his glass surprisingly quickly. "If you say it, you may feel silly, but the person listening to you won't find you silly." He paused. "Well…they _might_, but you can be sure _I _won't."

"I'm not insecure," Lily informed him, wondering if this was a lie or the truth. "I never have been…I'm just p-private."

"You don't trust anyone," he pointed out with a bit of a slur coloring his otherwise serious statement. "And that's insecurity." He leaned back leisurely against the wall behind him, placing his glass beside him so that his hands could open up freely. "So take a walk on the wild side, huh, Lily? Embrace a bit of a risk and tell me how you feel about me."

"You're getting drunk," she told him, gesturing to him.

"And you're not, which is a bit of a problem," he retorted. "Really, Lils; you're the one that wanted to talk, so talk to me." He took a bit more wine as he shrugged at her. "Ignore the wine, I'm just fine." He grinned. "Great rhyme, eh?"

Lily closed her eyes for a moment, restraining herself with obvious difficulty from rolling her eyes from dissatisfaction. This was _not _going the way she had hoped it would. She put her hand in her hair, rumpling it restlessly, and she said stridently, "Yes, it was a _brilliant _rhyme."

James winked at her and had another sip. But, when he caught sight of her stormy expression, he faltered, and backtracked by inquiring, "Hey, Lily, are you all right?"

"Yes, I am, because I'm still _sober_," she shot at him.

His expression became something out of a Muggle cartoon, so bewilderedly was it arranged. "I like wine!"

"Obviously," she snapped.

"I don't get why you're getting so anal about this," he proclaimed. "You didn't want to chug wine…you wanted to just _talk_ until it came time to talk about _you_…you're getting upset because I decided to have my dinner for the evening…this is not _my _doing at all. What would you have wanted to talk about anyway, since I'm obviously not addressing it?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said with frustration. "I…I suppose I wanted to continue our game of truth, but with lighter questions – standard questions that don't involve talking about my thoughts on tricky matters."

"But those aren't any fun," James said, his eyes wide and earnest behind his glasses as he explained this to her. "And I'm not _that _drunk, Lily, I'm still pretty coherent. I can take the things you tell me, honest, I swear it."

He put his hot, sweaty hand on hers and then cupped them in her lap, quivering but comforting in his own strange way nonetheless. The song was ending, with the last starry-eyed notes of the piano slowing down to ease into the next piece on the record; it wasn't helping their mood at all whatsoever. "Like I said, take a risk – I want to know how you think of me, but without any edits, you know what I mean?"

He met her gaze very, very gravely as he swallowed thickly and the next song started up – a slower one. "I don't like edits. Have I told you that already?"

"You've implied it." Lily bit her lip, and shyly took her hands away from his and placed hers on top – something that rather startled them both, the surprise only being enhanced by Frank Sinatra's crooning so perfectly along with them. "But…I really don't want you to have any more wine. How many glasses have you had?"

James thought about this as he poured himself another glassful. "Including this one…maybe twenty?"

"No, you've not had twenty," Lily said with a groan. "But you've had more than ten, I'd reckon."

"I'd reckon you reckon correctly," James said with a luxurious nod. "You're really quite good at that, you know."

Lily looked at him sadly, pursing her lips. "You've had more than enough to drink, James. No more wine, all right?"

"Only if you swear you're going to tell me about your _feelings_," he replied, drawing out the last word either for effect or for effort – she couldn't be sure which when the rest of his sentence was spoken rather slowly. "Don't girls usually like doing that?"

"Not this one," Lily muttered, confiscating the wine bottle and James's glass and tucking them away in a corner of the broom cupboard. "But okay – I'll do my best to talk about my _feelings_ if you promise me you won't drink anymore."

"Works for me," James said, stretching his muscular arms out in such a way that caused Lily to stare at them for a moment longer than she intended to. "I was getting a little funny in the tummy anyway, you know what I mean?"

"Good Merlin, James," Lily groaned once again. "Please do me a favor and don't get sick all over the place, all right? I've had more than enough of bodily fluids in this damned cupboard. If you feel ill, tell me and I'll get you a bucket, okay?"

"Okay," James said agreeably. Then he petted her on the head, although it took him one or two tries to locate it. "Don't worry, Lily Flower – I'm all right, seriously."

"How I wish I could believe that…" Lily sighed. "What do you intend to do for the rest of the time until you're sobered, then?"

James tried to reach for his wine glass, until he realized that it was not there anymore. "Erm…I dunno. Are you _sure _you don't want to chug any wine?"

Lily smiled the way a child might smile at the prospect of eating the world's broccoli population. "Yes, James; believe it or not, I'm sure."

James's sigh was much more exaggerated than hers had been. "Fine," he drawled. "I suppose…I suppose we'll just have to talk some more until you feel ready to give me the information I desire."

"You reek of wine," Lily informed him. "Please get away from me until you smell decent again."

Obediently, James scooted away from her and slurred, "Your wish is my command."

Lily groaned for the third time at him and, out of sheer frustration, took her wand out of her pocket and jabbed it at the gramophone to turn it off. James was looking at it with incomprehension, clearly wondering what he had done wrong, but she ignored him; as an alternative, she rested her face in the palm of her hand, and sullenly declared, "I've had enough of music for tonight."


	30. Unavoidable Male Tragedies

**A/N: You know, I just got the maddest idea in the world…what if this story ended up getting a thousand reviews? That would be the coolest thing in the world, I think, so I'm keeping that as my very-possible goal for this story. So, if you've never reviewed before, go ahead and review this chapter – I'd appreciate it eternally!**

**Thanks to all of you who **_**have **_**reviewed so far, because you're fantastic, and here's this chapter; enjoy!**

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The lack of music coming from the record player was rather strange after having it on so long in the background. Both were aware of this, and neither of them particularly liked this development, but Lily didn't turn it on again and James knew better in his hazy state than to try. He supposed they would just have to make do until he suggested putting it on again; it was a nice cushion during situations like this one.

"So…" he said eventually, after allowing the raw quiet to rear its ugly head for a few minutes. "How're you, Lily? Besides the not-getting-drunk part, obviously."

"I'm absolutely _wonderful_," she said, her sarcasm heavy and apparent. "And yourself? Besides the getting-drunk part?"

"'M good, to be perfectly truthful with you," he said, reaching half-heartedly for the wine next to Lily but getting smacked on the hand for his effort. "I'm feeling very warm. I like it."

"It'll go away soon and you'll have a killer headache to take the place of the warmth," she told him. "I _told _you not to drink so much wine; did I not tell you that?"

"You did, but you're one of those _do-gooders_," James explained to her slowly, as though she was mentally incapable.

"Not all the time!" Lily objected. "I thought we already discussed this! I am _not _a little angel; it's the image I keep, because it can be supremely beneficial in tight corners, but that's not all of me. Not even close."

"But see, that's the thing," he said, his eyes widening in that earnest sort of way again. "You won't let me _get _to the rest of you, so I don't even know what you've got back there. It's unfair."

"For a drunk, you're surprisingly coherent," Lily said darkly.

"I know I am, and don't change the subject," he insisted.

"You're going to crash soon, and I just…I don't want to deal with you, all right?" She retreated back to her corner of the cupboard, making sure to cover the wine when she did so. "If you're _so _intent on measuring out my apparently secretive personality, then be my guest – ponder until the night stars conk on your intoxicated head and give you the necessary epiphany. But leave me out of it until you're sober."

"What's the time?" he suddenly inquired after a moment. "I really, really want to know the time."

"The time is six past ten," she snapped after glancing down at her watch. "I suppose sleeping it off will do you some good…why don't you go to sleep, and I'll do the same?"

"There's not enough room for us to sleep comfortably," he informed her intelligently, grandly sweeping his hand to show her the amount of space they had to use in the broom cupboard. "And I'm not tired…"

"I've decided that you are, and I'm not the one clouded by alcohol, so what I say goes," Lily said severely. "Go to sleep, James. I'll figure something out for myself."

"You ought to be a mother," James commented.

"And you ought to be a more helpful member to society," Lily responded as she got herself to her feet and surveyed the young man on the ground.

"I could be the father," James cackled as though she'd not interrupted.

Lily threw him a very, _very _filthy look, but otherwise ignored him as she continued to survey him contemplatively, wondering what in the world was making him act so damn strange all of a sudden; he had been doing so well up until this point.

Of course, she knew that he owed all his silliness to the wine he'd been so eagerly consuming tonight, but she was more worried about a potential second reason for what he was saying to her – instinct. He had said to her before that wine brought out instinct, and she supposed it was now bringing out his; and as she had suspected, _his_ instinct was to make irksome jokes about the prospect of them being together.

And that was really the tragedy of the whole thing – the fact that until now, Lily had truly believed he was matured enough to get over _this_ particular instinct.

Could she be blamed for this, though? The way he was when people were watching him was so much different than how he was when they weren't, and she hadn't known this until today. She'd always seen him for the image _he _liked to keep these days – polite, clever, not flirting with any girl stupid enough to look his way. He was civil, distant while appearing bizarrely approachable; basically like the type of person a sixth year so close to adulthood should be.

Now, on the other hand, he was completely different; a slightly older version of the boy she had lost all semblances of manners with at the end of fifth year – crude, silly, honest, prone to drinking too much and ruining any moment she paused at. He was half child, and half adult – like her, he was only trying to figure out what he wanted to be in their crazy, convoluted world. However, everything about him annoyed her to no end, confused her frequently, frustrated her with his lack of consistency.

She didn't know him anymore – that was the bottom line. Both James's she knew, the one in class and the one here, were so dissimilar to the single one she'd loathed when she was young that she felt almost…lost. Despite their Truth, despite their discussions, despite what they'd shared thus far in this cupboard, she didn't know a single useful thing about him.

But all that being said, she had to admit, this new, uncouth James had a hell of a lot more life and spontaneity in him than the one in class did – even if he was a stranger, she'd genuinely been laughing and enjoying herself more than once this evening. Wasn't his unmatched sense of humor and nearly-unshakeable good mood enough to cancel the more awkward, more hostile moments between them that made her squirm? Wasn't that worth the trouble she took to get it, even if it lasted for only a few minutes?

And there lay her other tragedy – she couldn't be sure. She never had been sure.

Chewing on her lip, she continued to look down at him as he dawdled and ran his fingers through his hair, waiting for her to say whatever it was that she was going to say. In fact, she no longer remembered what she wanted to say. Had she wanted to say anything at all? Probably, but it eluded her now. How annoying. She sat back down, though as far from him as she was allowed.

"What's up?" he asked her. His eyes were vacant, although he was doing his best to focus upon her.

"Nothing, James," she said a little hopelessly, somehow ensuring that no other emotion crossed her palette of features. "Nothing at all."


	31. A Decidedly Dire Decision

**A/N: Holy cheese, fifty-one thousand hits and still going! That's insanity, you people!! Hugs all around!**

**But, other than that, I really only have to say that this chapter couldn't have existed without the totally amazing CD by resident genius Alanis Morissette – Flavors of Entanglement. Take a listen if you're curious; it's the most brilliant stuff I've heard in a while, and Alanis more than deserves all of your attentions, lol.**

**Enjoy the chapter, and thanks for all your support!**

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"Lils, I think I'm tired now," James announced presently, his hand in his hair as he yawned. "I didn't sleep much last night, and I had actually hoped for an early night tonight."

Lily, who had been very close to dosing off into a fitful cat-nap against the wall, awoke with a start at the sound of his voice, and faced him with a few adjusting blinks of her eyes. "You're tired?" she asked.

"Yeah, I am," he said, nodding. "And I'm starting to get a bit of a headache."

"You know, that was actually pretty fast," Lily commented. "You're already on your hangover state – I would have expected that you would get drunker first."

"Oh, I usually do," James assured her, rubbing his eyes. "This is only the start of it – I'm just not at capacity yet. I could probably drink both of those wine bottles Marly left us before I got properly drunk."

"Sweet Merlin, I am afraid of you," Lily said, her eyebrows raised apprehensively. "You must be a nightmare when you're at capacity."

James winked at her. "I am; I've been training slowly for a while now. If you're curious, talk to Sirius."

"I'd rather not." Lily cleared her throat. "So, you want to sleep?"

"Yeah, okay." He yawned again. "It'd be best if we did. My company is obviously annoying you."

Here, she blushed furiously. "Is that the impression you're getting?"

James squinted his eyes at her, scrutinizing her; it appeared to be hard work. "Well…yes. I may be a little drunk, Lil, but I'm not stupid. What impression _should _I be getting?"

"Erm…I don't know," she said, her cheeks still viciously pink. "It's just…I don't like it when you're drunk. You're…odd."

"Like you?"

"Like me." She refused to smile at his allusion to what she had said earlier. "Honestly…I prefer it when we're on the same page, when I don't have to feel like I'm talking to a Martian."

He considered this for a few moments, but the solution he came up with made him grin rather impishly back at her. "So how about you get drunk with me?" he suggested. "That way we could be drunk together – on the same page."

Lily gave him a look that clearly questioned his sanity, drunk or otherwise. "No."

"I'm not taking no for an answer this time," James decided, coming to his knees and crawling over to where Lily had kept his bottle and glass. "C'mon, you and me – we're going to get drunk."

"No!" Despite getting a small flutter in her stomach by the phrase 'you and me,' Lily immediately jumped forward and attempted to keep him away from the bottle, but he was now focused on his goal; he was able to neatly swipe his desired objects away before she could stop him, and he held on to them triumphantly, the sparkle starting to return to his murky eyes.

"Here," he said, grabbing her glass from beside her and filling it to the brim with the scarlet liquid. "Have it." He pushed it towards her as he took his own glass to fill.

Lily eyed it as though it was a fatally diseased organ. "I don't want it."

"You do." He pushed it closer towards her. "Go on, stop wasting the yummy wine. Marly gave it to us – use it."

"I told you, I don't want it!" She pushed it back to him. "Don't make me drink it."

"No, it'll be fun!" James pushed it at her yet again. "C'mon, it's your turn for Truth, isn't it? You can ask me anything you want, and you'll be loose enough to actually take advantage of your opportunity!"

"I can do that without the effects of alcohol," Lily insisted, picking it up and thrusting it at James, spilling a little on his pants. "Stop!"

"It's a lot more fun with the alcohol," he told her. The glass was mysteriously next to her knee when she next looked down.

"Hadn't you been tired?" she asked him hopefully as she placed the glass back into his lap. "Hadn't you wanted to go to sleep or something?"

"Well, yeah, but that was before you wanted to be on the same page as me – which means drunk," James explained. He took her hands and secured them around the wine glass. "So drink up, refill, and drink again!"

Setting her jaw irately, Lily lifted it to her lips and took a resolute gulp of it with an extremely filthy expression on her face. "There," she said, placing it between the two of them. "I had a bit. I'm done."

James clicked his tongue. "That's not enough. Finish the glass and have at least…five more."

"I am telling you, I'm not going to do this!" She glared at both him and the wine. "Stop asking me."

"I wouldn't have to ask you if you did it," he wheedled.

"Why are you insistent that I do this anyway?"

James paused, mulling it over slightly. "Because…" he said, releasing the words with deliberate care, "because of several reasons, actually. One is that I want to test out how drunk you can get, as I said earlier; the second is that I need an excuse to drink more myself; and the third is…I want you to relax. You're so _tense_, so anal. Let it go."

He held out the half-empty wine glass for her. "Go on, let it go."

Lily eyed him warily as he gave her the goblet, but his vague, inebriated eyes were absolutely true; there was simply something about them, something she couldn't place, that told her that despite his current state of half-drunk and half-sober elements, he meant what he was saying. It rang in her, softened the hard resoluteness she had been nursing for him until now, and although she couldn't really understand why, she resigned herself to sulkily accepting the glass and finishing it in one big sip.

"There, are you happy now?" she asked, giving him back the emptied glass.

"Yes," he said, grinning widely. "But the more you drink, the happier I'll be." He was more than swift in refilling the glass for the second time and presented it to her with a wink so small she could have sworn she was seeing things.

However, his manner only made her laugh, and she took the glass again with less fight and a wry partial-smile of her own. "You are terrible," she informed him. "I'm going to regret this later."

"Well, then regret it when later comes," he said. "I live for the present, for the right-now." He heartily swallowed down his own wine. "And right now, this tastes pretty damn good."

She bit her lower lip, but chuckled softly as she put the glass back to her lips and drank. "I hereby apologize for anything stupid I will probably do from this point on."

"I'd be insulted if you didn't do anything stupid," James decided, his smile becoming woolly as his third cupful went to meet his stomach and small intestine. "No more stopping after a few glasses, all right? The warmer you feel, the more you drink!"

"If this is how you will coach your future son in alcohol consumption, I pity him," Lily said with a giggle as she took a smaller swallow.

"Well, he'll have you to tell him not to, won't he?" He lifted the glass high to finish it up. "You'll scare the little bugger senseless and he won't listen to my bad influences."

James smacked his lips when he resurfaced, looking at the glass fondly. "_Really _good wine," he said. "Thank Marly for me."

But, Lily hardly heard what he was saying – she was too busy replaying what he had been saying in her head. Again, he was making remarks about how she was going to mother his children! What made him think she would? She wouldn't; she didn't care for him that way. This cupboard incident wouldn't change that; she couldn't imagine why he thought otherwise.

However, she knew better than to bring it up, because it was sure to lead to a highly awkward conversation as a result; so, she let it go and simply nodded at him and finished her glass of wine, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully with her lips pursed.

"You okay?" he asked her, seeming to be a great distance away.

Her ears then popped strangely, but the blood running through her veins was starting to heat like sticky honey trickling down her arm on the hottest day of the summer; her head was starting to spin like a well-spun top, and the chaos churning in her empty stomach was almost welcome.

Suddenly, he was very close to her instead of far, and she could feel the muscles of her mouth curl up into a heady smile. "Yeah, I'm all right," she heard herself say. "You want to pour me more wine?"

James's grin was as wide as ever as he obliged. "I knew you'd see it my way eventually."


	32. Unsubtly Opinionated

**A/N: This is one of my favorite chapters, along with the next couple, so I seriously hope you enjoy this, lol.**

**Oh, and the story's been officially – as in unchangeably – decided for ****47 chapters.**** Decided that very recently.**

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"I love Marly," Lily proclaimed with a considerable slur in her voice quite some time later, an enormous hiccup decorating her statement. "You were right – this is super good."

"Really, _really_ good," James agreed with a slur and a hiccup of his own. "See, this is why you ought to listen to me more often; I'm not _always_ wrong."

"But you usually are," she said, giggling as she bit on the lip of her wine glass, her vivid green eyes playful as they captured his attention.

"Yeah, so let me enjoy this instance where I am," he said, reaching out leisurely for the second wine bottle and sinking to a sitting position on the floor in the process. "Merlin, how much have we had so far?"

"Plenty," Lily said, picking up the first one which had been long discarded. "This is a big bottle, James – I wonder how we got it done so fast."

"I don't know." He smiled merrily as he took the empty bottle from her and tossed it aside.

Lily watched it go, an enormously pleased expression on her face, and then she suddenly asked, "Hey, can I call you _Jamie_?"

"No, you may not call me that," James declined, retracting heavily, his face scrunched up with annoyance and exertion.

"But I like it," she whined, the joy melting from her face and leaving a simpering plea on her features. "I wanna call you Jamie!"

"Fine, call me fucking Jamie! See if I care!"

Lily's smile became very placid then. "Okay, thanks Jamie."

"Hey, d'you want to play Truth now, since you're appropriately prepared?" he asked her in a careless attempt at changing the subject.

"Yeah, yeah, okay, okay, I think I've got a good question already," she said, her swallow thick as she put her hands up the way a caught criminal might. "You ready for this?"

"Yeah, I'm damn ready," he said seriously, leaning in, turning all the remains of his scattered attention to her. "What've you got for me?"

"You'll love it," she said, tucking her hair messily behind her ear. It was ineffective, and fell out the moment her hand moved away, but she paid it no attention as she asked in a near whisper, "Do you have a hidden fact about you that nobody else knows about? Not even the Marauders?"

His eyes bugged open rather comically at this query. "Getting a little personal, are we, Lily?"

"This _is _a game of truth," she pointed out. "And you're such a freak about _honesty _this, a-and _personal _that, and…and…and… just answer the fucking question already!"

"Okay, I am! Don't swear at me!" he said loudly. He then pulled a few faces as he thought, while Lily stretched out across from him on her side, supported by her elbow, as the bucket-candle still burned away between the two of them; her cheek was in her palm, and she was giggling at something or another. James was incredibly amused as he observed this and analyzed it in his dazed brain – he loved seeing Lily this way, when she was untethered and free to be an idiot. It was much more interesting; it took him another step closer to finding out what the eternally-mysterious Lily Evans was all about.

Even in a state of liquor-induced cloudiness, he could appreciate the shedding of her constant excuses; this was _her_, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

Eventually though, he shook himself out of his stupor and said, "Mmkay, I have something."

"Finally." Her smile was extremely foolish. "So what is it? What is your big _secret_?"

"It's that I was born with a sixth toe," James informed her with a similarly foolish grin.

"Shut up!" Lily shouted, picking up the empty wine bottle from where James had thrown it and hitting him sloppily on the arm with it, managing to disturb the lily vines behind her in the process. "No! You're joking!"

"I'm not joking!" James insisted, laughing as he took the bottle from her and threw it away again. "I was born with a sixth fucking toe!"

"OH!" She collapsed onto her back on the ground and started giggling madly. "That's funny," she informed him unnecessarily. "What happened to your sixth fucking toe?"

"My mum got all freaked by it," he explained, crawling over and lying on his back next to her. "She had the doctors chop it off. My dad thought it was cool though…he wanted to keep it."

"Eww," Lily said, continuing to giggle. "I can't believe you had a sixth fucking toe."

"I wish I still had it so I could wiggle it at you," James told her, turning his head to smile stupidly at her.

She turned her head as well and returned the expression with another frivolous gurgle. "I'd chop it off myself if you did." She made the sound of an axe swishing as she lifted her arm up and brought it down to the ground again. "Like _that_."

"But what about all the blood?"

"I'd tell Marly it was wine." Lily laughed maniacally at the thought. "She'd believe me, too."

"She'd smell it though, wouldn't she?" James questioned.

"Blood doesn't smell like anything, moron," she said, lazily slapping his arm.

"Yes it does," James said with a pout. "I hate the smell of blood – that's why I don't like it. It smells…musty. And gross."

"You're such a big baby," Lily accused him with a smirk, shaking her head so that her violently red hair tickled his nose. "Blood is nothing."

"Yeah? Then what are _you _scared of, Lily?" he challenged her. "I'm sure that's bloody nothing too."

"I'm scared of _heights_, and _clowns_, and _not being loved_," Lily informed him. "Those are _my_ biggest fears."

"You're afraid of not being loved?" James inquired, his expressive eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "How can you be afraid of something like _that_?"

"How can you not?" she countered, her eyes wide as she turned back onto her side so she could get a better look below at his face. "I mean…if you're not _loved_, then…then you don't really have _anything _anymore, you know what I mean? You're alone; and you're nothing if you're alone and no one's on your side."

"But you can't be _afraid _of that," James told her.

"Well, _I _am, and it's better than being afraid of something as ridiculous as _blood_," Lily decided resolutely. "Blood is the fucking liquid o-of _life_!"

James looked around for something to chuck at her, but if there was anything useful, it would have been too far away for him to reach – and he wasn't particularly in the mood to budge. So, instead, he decided to lean up and over, and blow in her ear. "You're a total guttermouth when you're high," he remarked.

Lily giggled (again) and put her hand to her ear, but gave James a mischievous twinkle of her eyes as she said, "Yeah? Well, you're a guttermouth when you're _nervous_…and you're nervous much more than I'm drunk."

"Not true!" James objected (although with the slur in his voice, it sounded more like 'nutrue'). He shook his head as he struggled to sit himself back up properly; for some reason, he was rendered incapable of making any quick movements, something Lily noticed.

With another merry laugh, she poked him hard in his gut and made him fall back on the floor with a quietly-uttered swearword and a large grunt. "It is _so _true," Lily said as she swung her leg over him and plopped down to sit on his muscular stomach, making him grunt again. "You get nervous a _lot_."

"I do not," he said, trying to heave her admittedly warm weight off of him for the sole purpose of appearance. It was made just a tad difficult, though, by the fact that Lily was clutching on to him and digging her nails into his skin through his shirt with her effort to stay – and although she wasn't fat by any means, she certainly was no pixie-weight. "I'm not _usually _nervous…you just _make _me nervous."

"How do _I _make you nervous?"

"Take sitting on me for example," he said, gesturing at her position atop him. "This makes it mighty difficult to do much of anything. Nerve-wracking."

"So what are you gonna do about it, cuss at me?" she teased.

"Maybe," he returned, monkey business raging in his animated hazel eyes.

She just giggled at him as she finally decided to roll off of him to resume her position on the other side of him. "You're an idiot, James Potter," she said to him.

She was lying so close to him – her quaking shoulder was touching his, her heat was emanating off towards him, warming him like a good cup of coffee, her red locks were making contact and mingling with his black ones. He could feel everything about her; smell her shampoo, breathe her watermelon-scented perfume, sense the rapid rise and fall of her chest. He loved it; he loved being so relaxed with a woman he had longed to get so drunk with.

So, he turned his head towards her to face her, as she did the same, and with complete absence of thought, he heard himself tell her, "I love you, Lily Evans."

Since she was so incredibly high, she didn't reprimand him, or go silent on him, or do anything she would have done if in the correct state of mind; she merely gave him her seventieth giggle of the evening and blushed crimson as she said, "I know you do. Maybe I love you too. But that's only a maybe."

Then she simply rolled a small way away from him, and went back to her side, grinning like a maniac (yet still appearing deliciously enigmatic) as he simply stared at her in drunken awe.

"So," she asked almost at once, the corners of her mouth twitching with more of her mad laughter, "do you have a question for _me _now?"

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**A/N: House-keeping…again…I dunno, every time I get these reviews that indicate a need for house-keeping, I can't help but oblige the feeling. xD It's good to know what I'm thinking when I'm writing something like this. So, if you want, you can skip this note, but if you're interested, there you go:**

**To address a concern brought up by ****jumpernumbernine****…in the last chapter, when James told Lily she ought to drink at least five more glasses of wine, he was exaggerating. He doesn't actually intend for her to do so; although he won't complain if she does. And Lily's not exactly low-tolerance either, because I had that whole chapter about her drunken encounters in Hogsmeade. But, anyway, if the amount of wine being consumed in this story confuse you in terms of how drunk you can get, sorry for those little errors, because I'm not very experienced in the act of getting drunk. ;) Just to clear that up.**

**And, while I'm at it, I'll say this too – when wine is introduced, no one is in their right minds. Lily is not actually that boring, nor does James actually think so, relax yourselves. ;3**


	33. Of Pretty Light & Yummy Buckets

**A/N: Now, I know you're probably getting a little impatient with me, because you're wondering where the romance is in this crazy story, but I can tell you right now, with certainty, that the good stuff will come within the next five chapters.**

**Thanks again for your support on this story, and here you go; enjoy!!**

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"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," James said challengingly, positioning himself back onto his own side to face her. "Gimme a moment, I'll think of something."

"Don't take forever," was Lily's only bubbly response.

James mused on the matter, his fingers twirling in his hair as he did so, and Lily did the same as she watched him think. They were at peace while he attempted with limited success to compose a decent question in his head to continue their game of truth – the bucket's flame was still dancing cheerfully in the dark of the cupboard, and shedding a meager bit of light on their faces, creating a warm, intoxicated sort of a mood.

There had been plenty of silences to go around in that tiny bit of extra space over the course of the past few hours, but this one had yet another diverse meaning behind it – a feverish sort of peace that, although it was rather artificial, still felt like it represented a wealth of emotion in itself. It was a hurricane of the calmest type.

He got so caught up in it – caught up in looking at her face, her hair, her eyes, her legs, her stance, everything about her – that he almost forgot he was supposed to be asking her a question. There was really only one he could think of; but at this moment, everything was possible, including this. Vaguely, he was so glad he had convinced her to drink herself stupid.

"Mmkay, I have something," James announced after roughly two or three minutes.

"Merlin, I could come up with _eight _questions in the time it takes you to think of _one_," Lily teased, sitting up and curling comfortably into a corner just near her.

"Yeah, well mine are better than all eight of yours put together," James teased her back. "I answer all of yours easily – you always take for_ever_."

Lily looked around for something to throw at him, but there was nothing that she could effectively use; as a result, she was forced to settle for a filthy, although smiley, glare in his direction. "It's because I need to come up with a good response to satisfy your morbid curiosity about me."

"You do a terrible job," he accused.

She gave him a pout, her lower lip jutting out lusciously in such a way that made him suddenly yearn, with a wave of teenage passion, to snog her senseless. "Fine, then, why don't you ask your damn question so I can try to give a satisfactory reply?"

"Fine, I will," he agreed resolutely. "So here's what I'm thinking–"

"No, no, not yet," Lily interrupted, her hand up in the air again.

"What's wrong with you?" he wanted to know, snorting.

"No, I want more light first," she informed him. "This is too little!"

"Merlin, Lily, we've had this much light for most of the time we've been in here!" James said, laughing at her. "Why is it suddenly bothering you _now_?"

"I dunno, it just is!" she insisted. "I want more light!"

"Well, then how do you expect me to get you more fucking light?" James gestured wildly around them. "There's really not much in here."

"Go get a bucket," Lily ordered him. "Go get two, or three, I don't care. Just _some _buckets."

"I don't want to," James protested, the look on his face resembling that of a four-year-old not getting his way.

"Too bad," Lily insisted, her own face resembling that of a four-year-old along with his. "Do it!"

"No!"

"Do it!"

"_No_!"

"I'm not joking, go make more light!"

"Goddamn it, I said _no_, Lily!"

Lily did her pout again, and she crawled forward towards him, nearly touching the bucket as she lay on her side once more. "Pwetty pweese?" she pleaded, making her eyes as wide and innocent as she could, her lower lip remaining where it was. "With sugar quills on top?"

He looked at her for a second or two, fighting back fierce impulses to snog her for the second time – something he knew she wouldn't be able to stop him from doing when they were so disorientated – and eventually grumbled, "Oh all right, fine, I'll make more light."

"Yay!" Lily leaned over the bucket, her arms wide, and she wrapped them briefly around James's neck, grinning stupidly. "Thank you, Jamie."

"I don't like it when you call me that," he insisted, although he was grinning broadly both from her embrace and the friendly way with which the wine was influencing her to treat him.

"Whatever you say, _Jamie_," she said with a wink, retreating back to her spot.

"All right, Lily Flower, I'm going to go find your fucking buckets." He chuckled and started lazily prowling through the different layers of things scattered about under the first shelf beside him. He made as much noise as he could, something that greatly entertained Lily, until he eventually found a couple of buckets sitting all by their lonesome in the middle of the storage area. He held them up for her, showing them over the candle so she could see the inside of them, and she clapped for him, her laughter so hard it was inaudible.

"I found them!" he announced.

"I know you did!" she said, delighted as a child getting their most desired Christmas present. "Jamie found the buckets!"

He nodded his head into a sitting sort of bow. "'S true, I found the buckets."

"I love buckets," Lily said, her face filled with rapture at the thought. "They're so…bucket-like. They're yummy." She giggled riotously, the corners of her eyes crinkling with her gusto. "Like you!"

"I'm yummier than a bucket." James pulled a pose that might have been pulled by a Greek God high on ancient Greek liquor.

Lily continued to giggle, but snatched the buckets away from him. She then held them back out to James, and said, "Put light in 'em."

"_You _do it, _I_ found them," James ordered her. "That's not fair!"

"I don't care." Lily gave him an extra giggle. "Oopsie, I made a rhyme!"

"It was a horrible rhyme," James notified her. "My fine-wine one was more funnier."

"Your grammar is worse than your rhyming – it's _more funny _or _funnier_," Lily told him, hiccupping. "Merlin, you make trolls look smart sometimes."

"Yeah? Well I'm feeling extremely warm and fuzzy at the moment, and I don't really care about grammar – and neither should you," James declared.

"That's 'cuz you're _stupid_," Lily accused him with a grin. "You're _stupid_, Jamie. Really, really fucking _stupid_."

"I'm not _that _fucking stupid, I'm only a few places behind you in marks," he told her, an emotion loosely like offense registering in his brain.

"I still think you're _stupid_." Lily made a bizarre face at him before collapsing into more hysterical laughter. James marveled at how crazy she was at the moment – it was a satisfying change. He'd have to remember to tell her later that she was one of his favorite people to get drunk with, besides Remus.

However, he didn't tell her any of this at present – instead, he made a sullen expression in her direction before putting the buckets he'd found noisily on the floor against the shelves as far from them as the small space would allow. This caught Lily's attention – instantly, she stopped laughing long enough to gaze, starry-eyed, at the buckets and say in an awed whisper, "It's the buckets, Jamie."

"Yeah, I have them, and I'm gonna put fire in them," he told her, the tone of his whisper matching hers exactly. "You know, to make more light and then ask you my question."

"Oh, okay," she said agreeably, her eyes round as coins as she stared at the buckets with a nutty sort of ecstasy. "Yes, put fire in the buckets, Jamie. I like lights. They're pretty." She chortled as she blew a strand of red hair out of her face.

James nodded ambiguously at her and pulled out his wand, his fingers shaking and fumbling as he did so; when he pointed it at the buckets, he really had to remember how to do the simple charm for a moment before he said it nonverbally and made the flame appear in the second of the three buckets.

Instantly, the flame danced as cheerily as the flame in the other bucket had, and the cupboard was bathed in another modest splash of light. Lily, excited, began to clap loudly for the second time as James gave her his nod-bow and a wide smile, obviously delighted with himself.

"Look, Jamie, you made the fire!" Lily cried unnecessarily, as though she had never seen such a phenomenon occur in her life. "_Fire_!"

"I'm gonna make more, too, just watch." Clearing his throat and using very large, lavish flourishes of his wrist, James performed the charm once more and the last bucket had a third miniature flame flickering in it. Lily was beside herself with enthusiasm.

"There's light now, I can see you better!" Lily said, pointing at him and poking his nose with her index finger. "Look, the gold light makes you look as pretty as the fire! And the yummy buckets!" She poked the rest of his face as she informed him of this event, enjoying the ability to poke something yielding while he simply enjoyed the fact that _she_ was touching him. It was probably the most beneficial win-win situation he'd ever been a part of.

When she was satisfied, she asked, "Jamie, does the light make me look pretty too?"

"Yeah, it makes you look _real _pretty," he told her with a hazy smile. "C'mere, let me show you how pretty I think you are."

He hadn't exactly meant it, but his last statement had a rather suggestive ring to it, and he didn't realize until the words had already escaped his lips; he was going to take it back, until he noticed the equally suggestive smile playing on Lily's lips, at which point he decided he had done it on purpose.

"Okay, show me how pretty I am," Lily said with a hiccup, crawling eagerly towards him, thoroughly enjoying being on her knees. James held his arms out to her, his stomach churning in a turbulent but pleasant manner, and she leaped into them, ramming him into the door of the broom cupboard with her vigor. The smell of the perfume he'd gotten a whiff of earlier was overwhelming in his nose.

Startled by her full, solid presence, James hit the door harder than intended, his back making painful contact with the hardened wood, and it was all he could do to remain breathing as Lily's middle collided with his gut. In surprise, James's leg reflexively kicked out to help his fall, but he hadn't expected for his foot to touch something solid.

He looked up over Lily's shoulder to see what he hit, feeling her smile in the soft cloth of his shirt, and saw with a jolt of horror hot in the remainder of the gut Lily Evans had crushed a moment ago that he had hit one of the buckets he'd lighted as a candle.

It was almost in slow-motion that Lily turned around to see what he was looking at, and the two of them watched the flame inside the bucket (it had been a portable one, a simple but useful charm they had learned in first year) come out to the cupboard and make contact with the least helpful thing in that corner – an overhanging lily vine.

At once, the flame caught hold of the plant and climbed up it, making a glowing trail of flames as it went – it didn't take long for the tiny thing to reach the top where the ceiling united the four walls, and begin to spread to the other vines James had conjured earlier in the evening. The whole cupboard, within the space of about thirty seconds, was ablaze with fire, which was moving about to the rest of the supplies around it; it was nearly surreal.

Lily was the first to register her shock at the situation. "Jamie, the cupboard is on _fire_!" she hollered in his ear, still sitting on his lap as she pointed wildly above them.

"I know!" James hollered back in hers, pointing with her. "Look at it go! We're on _fire_, Lily!"

"We can't be on _fire_!" Lily wailed. "I don't want to die! I'm not even seventeen yet, I-I still have to kill Marly, and…and…and…"

She searched wildly in her smashed brain for the right words – which were on the tip of her tongue before she promptly lost them – but when she couldn't find them, she used the next best thing she could access with equivalent ease: "UGH, JAMIE, JUST FUCKING _DO_ SOMETHING!!"

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**A/N: Just in case you were wondering; the reason the vines burned and the buckets didn't was because the buckets were charmed beforehand to be fireproof – you know, in case Peeves decided to have a little fun with them or something. That's my explanation for it.**


	34. Pros & Cons of Being Right

**A/N: My age mistake in the last chapter has now been fixed. Thanks for pointing it out, it was a total brain-fart on my end!**

**A hundred people favorited this story? Two hundred want to know when I update? Allow me to climb through your computers and give you all big bear hugs, because seriously, this is madness! And I love every second of it!**

**Your reviews are like chocolate syrup on a scoop of ice cream; thanks a million!!**

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"What the fuck do you want me to do?!" James shouted back at her, throwing her off his lap so that she rolled beside him instead. "The whole cupboard's on fire!"

"I don't know, I don't know," Lily cried, scrambling to save Marly's record player and both of the wine bottles from the wrath of the fire. "Do you have your wand? Can you do the water spell?"

"Why do _I _have to do all the magic in here?" James grumbled as he frantically groped for his wand again in his pocket.

"Because you're Jamie and you're yummy like a bucket," Lily reminded him softly, her smile puppy-dog sweet.

James grinned foolishly back at her, enjoying hearing himself be referred to as 'yummy' (even if he was being compared to a bucket), and he managed to stare adoringly at her for a few seconds before she suddenly remembered the fire and shrieked, "JAMIE, THE FIRE!"

"Okay, okay, I'm putting out the fire!" James assured her, holding on to the door as he supported himself to his feet. It was extremely difficult, especially since the moment he made any progress Lily saw fit to hang on to his ankles, but James quickly pointed his wand at the flames and hollered, "Aguamenti!"

Water spat out of his wand in a messy stream, and did combat some of the burning lilies, but the effort was too weak for a fire so out-of-control. Any of the flames that were eradicated were quickly replaced as the fire continued to rage – which rather frightened Lily, who was still every bit as drunk as James if not more so.

"Jamie, Jamie, it's not working!" Lily told him unnecessarily, the terror too visible in her green eyes. "Put out the fire, Jamie! I don't want to die!"

"You are not going to die, Lils, but you do have to help me," James said. "C'mon, get up." He grabbed onto her wrist and attempted to heave her up, but it took a few tries before Lily got back to her feet as well, stumbling like a child just learning to walk.

"Take out your wand, Lily," James ordered her as he nonverbally said his spell and tried to save the shelves of the cupboard from the relentless inferno. "Go on, take it out right now."

Obediently, Lily produced her wand from her pocket and asked, "What was the spell?"

"Aguamenti," he told her as he managed to stop the flames at the second-to-top shelf. "Just…just shoot it everywhere and help me douse this!"

"Okay, okay," she said as she tried to remember the proper wand form. "Aguamenti!"

Apparently, she remembered it correctly, because a jet of water much stronger than James's shot out of her wand to the corner of the cupboard. James saw this, and gave her a sour glare in return.

"Even when you're drunk, your spells are stronger than mine," he muttered darkly, pulling a face.

"Haha, I told you that you were fucking stupid, Jamie," Lily said with a laugh as she did the spell nonverbally with a little twirl. "Now help me, stop being so silly!"

It was admittedly a bit rich of her, but he let it go anyway; shaking his head, he went back to both verbally and nonverbally shouting "Aguamenti" with Lily and aimed more for the junctions that connected to more than one vine, so that the flames would die out by themselves on the individual strings. The shelves, also, had to be given special attention because it was very easy for the fire to jump from shelf to shelf, since the material making each was indeed wood; and once it got to the bottom shelf, the two of them would be next.

Keeping this as a motivator, they kept shooting water at the vines – sometimes mixing up a few of the sounds in the name of the spell but listening to the other when they got confused – and James in particular was irresistibly reminded of the water fight he'd had with Lily when she made him wash his hands. That had been the only other time when he had used the charm this unremittingly. From playful splashing to saving their drunken lives from a bucket-fire…how the circumstances had changed.

However, it wasn't very long until the flames finally began to subside and die out completely, nearly as quickly as they started, and the remains of the charred, ashy lily vines crumbled in a sorry heap on the cold stone floor. The shelves were mercifully intact (enough) somehow, although most, if not all, of the items on them were already burned to a crisp similar to the leftovers from the plants. Only the harsh, horrible scent of burning leaves lingered in the thick, smoky air – which did make James cough and Lily sneeze, but was bearable enough to their already-aching heads.

All in all, things could definitely have gone much worse.

Unfortunately, though, the lack of fire also left a lack of light in the cupboard, so James told Lily to wait for a second as he felt around in the dark for a bucket – if it, by some means, survived the fire – until he miraculously found one of the others that had been washed out. His wand still slightly wet from the water that Lily accidentally sprayed on it during the flame-quenching, he magically dried it and muttered the charm for the fire once more. Instantaneously, the flame returned to the small container, innocent as ever.

He wanted to snort; portable flames were not at _all _innocent. He had first-hand experience to prove it.

When the bucket was settled and the flame was with it, James turned back to Lily at last; she was still sitting where he left her against the wall, but she was looking around at the cupboard, her nose wrinkled disgustedly. When he scooted back to sit beside her again, she looked at him with the same expression, her eyes as cloudy as ever.

"This smells ghastly, Jamie," Lily informed him, her tone clearly spelling out her revulsion. "Can't you do something about it?"

"I don't want to put up any more plants with that fire still going," said James, shaking his head and then putting his hand in his hair. "I don't want another disaster."

"You're right," she said with a resigned sigh.

"Again," he pointed out.

Lily smiled inanely. "Yes, again."

"Second time today."

"I know."

"See? This proves I'm _not_ stupid."

A pause. "No, you're still stupid."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

They stayed silent for about a minute, mulling over the situation (though rather sleepily, in James's case) they had just narrowly avoided, until Lily broke the quiet by belching rather loudly.

"Excuse you," he said, although he actually wanted to laugh.

"Did you know I can burp the alphabet?" Lily asked him dimly. "My uncle and grandfather taught me how when I was eight."

"That's very interesting, Lily," James said, sounding sarcastic although a part of him did genuinely mean it. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

"You're welcome."

Another minute-long silence in the privacy of the burned, overly-fragrant broom cupboard.

Then –

"Hey Jamie?"

"Hmmm?"

"That was a really close one."

James turned his head to look at Lily as she did the same at exactly that moment. "Yeah, you're right," he said.

Lily smiled wide enough for him to see her molars in the back of her mouth. "Duh."


	35. Just Like a Big Teddy Bear

**A/N: Thanks again for your marvelous reviews; you have no idea how high my ego soars whenever I read them. I'm going to be downright arrogant by the time this tale is finished, but you have all my appreciation nonetheless, lol.**

**Good stuff shall happen next chapter, I promise; so deal with this cliffie to the best of your abilities and wait until tomorrow -- which is incidentally my fifteenth birthday!**

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Now that the fire was out, Lily could recognize that she was feeling a little bit more relaxed, a little bit more secure on where she was. The fire, although frightening, had sharpened her senses significantly, and a small, dull ache starting up in a seemingly faraway chamber of her wrung-out brain had begun. She had the odd sensation that although she knew perfectly well what these signs meant, they were out-of-body and irrelevant – she was simply in no mood or state to decipher them.

All that mattered at the moment was that she was here, with her blood surging with searing heat along her highway of veins, in this broom cupboard, with that funny "Jamie" Potter by her side; she was happy in the most simplistic way, and it felt wonderful.

She hadn't felt this way before in the course of her short life, including the other instances she'd gotten drunk; somehow, it was kind of nice to share this first with "Jamie." It felt…_right_. Natural.

How queer.

The sleep waves were becoming rather overwhelming, she thought; she was feeling increasingly tired. With a yawn, she stretched out her arms and crawled towards James as he settled into his corner. She wanted company, and judging from the loose, contented smile on James's face as she approached, he was more than happy to oblige her.

As she climbed into his lap and cuddled her head against his chest, her hair tickling his nose again, she said to him, "I'm feeling really drowsy, Jamie."

"I can tell," James murmured, putting his arms around her more securely, enjoying her warm weight against his body.

She was quiet a moment, and then said, "You're comfy."

"So are you," he said. "Just like a big teddy bear."

Lily smiled into his shirt and yawned a second time, her hand feeling its way up to his shoulder and resting there. She didn't say any more, but her silence was at ease, like that of a well-fed baby. He noted how cuddly she was when she was drained of her limitless energy, sarcasm, and emotional-defense; she acted like a four-year-old child ready to fall asleep on the first decent surface she could find. It was strange for him, seeing as she was nearly seventeen-years-old and he was only two months younger, but at the same time, it felt…_nice_.

That was the best thing about Lily, in his opinion – the fact that he didn't have to be anything specific when he was around her. He didn't have to worry (much) about how he _had _to be; he worried more about what he _wanted _to be. He could tell she felt similarly, too – they didn't have to fret about class markings, adulthood, danger, or anything of the sort when they were together. They just worried about that moment and making it count for something; getting to know each other and gently breaking down age-old walls in an attempt to start over.

Since they were basically children, they had acted a certain way and taken the other as only one type of person – a target, though for different reasons. They were older now; there was more to them than there had been all those years ago. Of course, neither took enough time to realize it, but tonight was the turning point, the real pivoting moment when that instinct-based relationship that had always contained so much fire would be decided – to be doused as their cupboard-fire had been, or to be honed carefully to make it more extraordinary than anything they could imagine.

James could sense deep within his bones that some critical progress had been made tonight, as he held her close to him, rubbing small circles with his thumb into the soft flesh of her hip. Even if some of it was wine-induced, it was happening. Things inside her were changing in ways even she didn't understand. All he had to do was keep pushing her, ever so softly, into the direction he wanted – he was sure they were almost there.

As he looked around the cupboard that had been their home and prison for so many hours, continuing to muse in his feverish brain, his eye caught sight of the record player they had managed to save by some means, sitting innocently a few feet away from them. The Frank Sinatra record Lily had put off was still in it – and by watching Lily, he was sure he could figure out how to put it on. Hmmm…

"Lily?" He then said her name as though it was a question as he began to shake her slightly in his lap. "Lily? Lils, can you hear me?"

"Mmm?" She frowned slightly as she yawned a third time and began to open her eyes. "Yeah, I can hear you."

"Good." He shifted her so that she was in a position resembling sitting up, with his arm behind her to support her. "Lils, you want some music? Should I put on the…that record – what was the man's name?"

"Something with an 'S'," she said vaguely.

"Yeah, him. Do you want me to put that on?" he asked.

"Okay," she said, her eyes fluttering open as she blinked to regulate herself. The green he caught glimpses of was still shadowy, but appeared to be clearing up a little – he could tell the high was starting to wear off on her. It had already begun to do the same to him.

"Okay," he repeated. "Here, give me a minute…"

He moved her forward gently, and leaned over to grab the record player. He dragged it back to him, and Lily watched with interest as he charmed the turn-bar, as she had done earlier, and set the needle to the record. She was more like a four-year-old child than ever as the music began to play – she was absolutely enthralled.

"It's the 'S' guy!" she said delightedly, giggling madly, all her tiredness mysteriously forgotten. "Maybe we should call him sexy…his voice is quite lovely."

James picked up the case the record had come in, and held it over the candle to see it better. Squinting to see it properly in the restricted light, he read slowly, "Frank Sinatra – Music for Young Lovers."

"Sinatra! That's it!" Lily crawled over to the candle and snatched the case from James to get a better look at it. Then she hugged it.

"I like it," she informed him, clutching it against her chest protectively.

However, for once, James was not paying her any attention; he was listening to the notes being sung and played from the gramophone with his forehead creased, a look of intense concentration on his face. This startled her – she dropped the case and instantly forgot about it.

"What are you thinking about, Jamie?" she wanted to know, her eyes utterly demure.

"I know this song," James said, his tone low as he continued to deliberate. "I've heard it before, my mum likes it…she used to sing it sometimes when she was doing the household spells in the morning…"

Lily listened as well, her expression perplexed, but she came up blank – she had no connection to the song that she could possibly remember at that particular moment. She told him so, but he ignored her as he tried to persuade his brain to figure out what the song was. It was a slower, soulful number, and the words were distantly familiar. He could even sing along with a few of them. When he did so, though, Lily giggled once more.

"You should stick to Quidditch, Jamie, you're rubbish at singing," she told him.

"All alone again, taking a chance on love…" he sang loudly, his eyes twinkling as he made the notes purposefully out of tune. Lily cringed, but laughed as she put her hands to her ears. Conversely, he had an admittedly belated reaction to what he had just said.

"Oh!" he said, startling Lily again. "It's 'Taking a Chance on Love'!"

"It's what?" Lily's nose wrinkled.

"Here I slide again, about to take that ride again, starry-eyed again, taking a chance on love," James crooned along with Frank Sinatra.

"Taking a chance on love…" The way Lily said it – the way she turned the phrase around on her tongue, tasting it and letting it bubble on her lips, so abruptly brooding against her previous bubbly mood – surprised James as he watched her tuck her hair restlessly behind her ear. She seemed to be quite distressed.

Then, as suddenly as she brooded, she became significantly upset, as she burst out with, "Well, what does _he _know about taking a chance on love? It's a hell of a lot harder than he says it is!"


	36. Taking a Chance on Love

**A/N: Happy birthday to me…happy birthday to me…I'm now officially halfway to thirty! How exciting!! It just happened to be good luck that another one of my favorite chapters is going to be posted on the anniversary of my entrance to this world – so enjoy, loves, despite my cliffie of epic proportions! And do ****not**** forget to review!**

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"Lils, wassamatter?" James asked, bewildered. His eyes widened as he came out of the world he'd entered through the song, and took in her distress.

"Taking a Chance on Love…it was always my least favorite song because it's so fucking unrealistic!" Lily raged, slurring her words in her haste. She was back in her drunken flurry, fully irritated as she glared at the gramophone. From the look on her face, one would have guessed it personally sprouted legs and tried to attack her.

"What do you mean by that, Lily?" he inquired, his bewilderment only growing as he surveyed her angry person.

With a huff, Lily chucked the record case she had been previously clasping across the cupboard. It hit the door with a thud, and she glared at it, her lower lip jutting out as she did so. James looked from her to the case, fazed, and with little idea of what made her react so strongly.

"I don't like it, I don't like it, I don't like it," Lily insisted darkly, stubbornly, shaking her head at him for extra emphasis – as if he doubted her. "Jamie, put it off!!"

"Why is it so fucking unrealistic, Lily?" James wanted to know, looking at her dumbly as he dutifully turned the record player off. "Explain it to me."

"Well, he says that he's…he's gonna be happy and everything's gonna be all right if he goes, a-and takes a chance on love," Lily said, frustrated. "It's not gonna be like that! It won't!"

"Why won't it be like that?"

"Because it's hard when you love someone," Lily told him, her tone hardening one way but softening in another. "When I was dating Preston Daniels last year, I thought I loved him, Jamie. I took a chance on him, and you know what? He wanted to go _further_, and when I wouldn't, he _dumped _me. _Dumped _me! Like a bag of shit on the street, he _dumped _me!"

She swallowed thickly, putting her hair behind her ear and raising her arms to help properly gesticulate her horror. "And you know, I loved him, Jamie; I did, I loved him. Cried for _weeks_ when he dumped me – near Christmastime, too. I had Marly McKinnon send him a bag of maggots for Christmas, so that he wouldn't know it was me, but he knew anyway…he got kind of mad at me, but I didn't care, Jamie, I didn't care – he made me so _sad_. I loved him so much, and he didn't care about me, and he dated Mary MacDonald a week after he left me; Mary said he was a jerk to her, too, when he broke up with her and we hated him together because we were so _mad_ at him."

Lily's eyes were very serious, despite her intoxication, when she looked at him next. "Before I started dating him, Jamie, I loved him then, too, and Alice Prewitt kept telling me to take a chance on him, because I loved him and he wouldn't know until I told him and I would be miserable because I had such a big secret I kept from him. So I did; I took a chance on him, and he was so nice to me…and then he dumped me, and I thought I'd never get over it. Things were _not _all right, like the Sinatra man said they would be, because it ended with me being sad and eating so much chocolate with Marly and Alice…I hadn't had it in me to get another boyfriend after him, you know."

Her expression was utterly melancholy as she finished, "I don't like taking a chance on love, Jamie, and I don't like this song. I used to listen to it sometimes, at the beginnings of my relationships, and it used to make me happy…but now it just makes me glum." She chewed on her lip and sighed. "Just really, really glum."

James watched her breathe in and out, in and out, her breaths shallow and despondent while she tucked her hair behind her ear again, only to have it break loose once more. Lily had definitely had a messy history with dating – nobody's love life was ever private in Gryffindor House – but hearing it all from her was entirely different. He recalled now that it was indeed after her end with Preston Daniels that he began to redouble his efforts on Lily, because she'd been visibly down and he figured he could catch her on the rebound. However, he had not known that this song brought back such sour memories for her while it brought pleasant ones for him; he toyed with the idea of holding her like he had before, but decided against it.

She would come if she wanted; he couldn't know if she was sober enough to kill him yet.

In spite of that, though, when she looked at him next, almost ready to cry with her turbulent emotions, the impulse to hold her was almost irrepressible. He might have been able to hold it back on a day when he was not so drunk, but tonight, he _was _drunk – he couldn't help opening his arms out to her, ready to be her cushion if she fancied it.

He was utterly astonished when she sniffed hugely and crawled towards him again with an air of retreat, sinking into his arms with all her weight and resting her head back against his chest. Her fingers were stroking his shoulder, his arm, his ear – it wasn't in a lustful fashion by any means, but there was a certain tenderness to the way she did it that caused goosebumps to come up where she touched him.

She was unaware of this, though, as she said in a tone that implied her full use of gut over mind, "You were _so annoying_ when you kept telling me you loved me as kids, Jamie…I really thought I hated you for it, because you wouldn't go away when I told you to. But now, I don't think you're that annoying anymore. I even kind of miss your teasing me, stupid as it was. Marly thinks I've fallen in love with you, which is why we're in this mess, but I…I thought she was talking through her hat at first, as 'cuz it wouldn't be the first time she did, but I'm not so sure now. This was kind of how I felt with Preston; wanting to sit in his lap and curl up with him every night. He used to love it when I touched him like this."

Her fingers traced the shape of a flower with the tips of her fingernails on his arm. "Do _you _love it when I touch you like this?"

"I love it when you touch me any way," James told her bluntly, as absent as she.

"He'd say the same thing." She smiled vacantly. "I'm _so tired, _Jamie. I'm tired of love and I'm tired of people telling me I like him or him or him or him or whoever else they can think of who is half decent that I've not dated yet. I'm tired and all I want to do is sleep. And never drink wine again."

She looked up at him, pure Lily Evans staring up at him through the depths of her cloudy emerald eyes. "I don't want take any more chances on love, no matter how tempting they are."

James mulled this over for a moment or two, his expression contemplative as Lily watched him think, the strangest murkiness to her eyes that was completely unrelated to the wine she'd consumed.

Then he said, thoughtfully, "Lil, I've had six girlfriends in my five and a half years at Hogwarts – I took a chance on all of them, and even though some of them ended badly, I figured, hey, they just weren't right for me. The important thing is you…you gotta _learn _from 'em, you know what I mean? It helps you get ready for the one you're gonna settle down with eventually. It helps you feel alive and gives you someone to look forward to in the mornings. I'm a bit of an optimist that way."

Lily's roaming fingers came perilously close to touching the smooth skin of the base of James's neck, to his throat, but she pulled back at the very last second. "I'm not an optimist. I've stopped dating. I've never fancied anyone after Preston."

"Pity," James said carelessly, his fingers going up to her hair and twirling it between his fingers. "You ought to start again. One of my secret desires is to get married and have eight children and retire to Switzerland, where I will spend the rest of my days munching on Swiss chocolates."

"Eight children?" Lily laughed, and with the chuckle came a loud hiccup. "Damn big family you want, eh?"

"I like kids, but I'm leaving my brilliant wife to the diapers and sleepless nights," James said with a snicker, poking her in the side. "What's one of your secret desires?"

"It's called a _secret _desire for a reason, you idiot," Lily said, chortling, ignoring his poke. "You're not supposed to just _say _it."

"Yeah? Well, I've decided it can be my question for Truth – which means you have to answer it honestly," James said smugly, giving the lock of her hair he was playing with a little tug.

"Gah, screw you, you little fucker," Lily growled playfully, giving his neck a small smack with the back of her hand. "I don't know what I want."

"You must know what you want, you have to have _some_thing you can tell me," James insisted, resuming his activity of playing with her hair. "What's some mad, dirty, perverse desire you've harbored inside of you for the longest time? Everyone has at least one."

"A mad, dirty, perverse desire I've harbored inside of me for the longest time?" Lily tapped her chin with luxurious, exaggerated movements, her eyes good-humored. "Hmmm…that's a difficult one to answer…"

"Take your time, we've got all the time in the world," James said idly, gesturing around about them.

Lily giggled, but continued to ponder the question, her eyes growing more mischievous by the millisecond, until her expression lit up with the radiance of illumination. "How about this?" she asked, an odd suggestiveness coloring her tone.

James opened his mouth to inquire after it, to wonder aloud what she could possibly mean by it, when all of a sudden, she lunged forward with surprising determination and forced her warm, rosy lips sloppily, but surely, onto his own.


	37. Mad, Dirty, Perverse Desires

**A/N: Thanks for all your brilliant reviews and birthday wishes, you guys; you're the absolute best!**

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He barely registered the extra weight or soft texture of her lips at first. It was too unexpected, he was too high, she was too unlikely to do such a thing – he was sure he was hallucinating, or dreaming very real dreams at the very least. But, when a few seconds passed and she was still _there_, her tongue beginning to peep out and explore the surface of his top lip, he realized quite belatedly that it was a hundred percent real – that Lily Evans was indeed kissing _him_, after all she'd ever said on the matter.

That was when his brain – which he was sure now resembled a block of cheese melting on a sidewalk – finally kicked into gear and urged his own tongue forward, plunging it into the hot, secretive depths of her mouth. It purged every bit of her there was to purge, hungrily drawing in her sweet, unique taste. She tasted of the red wine they'd drunk, cinnamon, and oddly, mangos; she was exquisite.

Quickly, the kiss became extremely involved, with hands pulling in every bit of the other in clumsy attempts to bring them closer, feel every bit of them. It was such a violent, turbulent sensation – from lazy discussions to passionate physical desire in the span of perhaps thirty seconds was definitely a staggering change to the inebriated body – although to the mind, it was nothing short of pure bliss.

Roughly one heady, wet minute later, they broke apart, and released their hold on the other, gasping. The thoughts of both were as obvious as if they'd been uttered aloud: Oh Merlin, did that honestly just happen?!

Blinking almost stupidly, James disentangled his fingers from Lily's red locks, although he could not specifically recall tangling them so deeply in the first place, while Lily reclaimed her hand from behind James's neck, blushing slightly.

Their gazes met for the briefest of moments, embarrassed flickers going off in both sets of eyes, before James averted his and cleared his throat significantly. "So…" he said loudly, in an ineffective effort at lightening the mood with conversation.

"Yes," Lily responded just as loudly, scratching the back of her head as she looked down at the ground.

"I didn't know _that _was one of your mad, dirty, perverse desires, Lil," he said for the sake of saying something.

"I didn't know either, until now," she admitted with one of her giggles. "But, well, I suppose I was kind of curious." She met his gaze there, a small, wry smile on her well-kissed lips. "I wanted to know…what it felt like. And now I do." She laughed again. "Took a chance on damned love after all, I guess."

"Was it worth the risk?" he asked interestedly, his eyes flickering again behind his glasses.

She only took half a second to make up her mind with a grin. "Hell yes."

With this, she latched onto the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a second kiss. As he was better prepared this time, he immediately sped forward to acquaint with her tongue and wrap his brawny arms around her hips, admiring how warm and soft they were to the touch. Her fingers began knotting into his hair then, as though she was clutching onto him for dear life; and _his _fingers explore the gentle curve the valley of her waist created, feeling both ravenously greedy and achingly loving. Blood boiling, systems in overdrive, and lungs straining for oxygen, James couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way.

He probably never had; kissing Lily was so much different from kissing any other girl.

She wasn't as delicate as she had appeared to be at first, once they had settled into each other properly; there was definite grit to how she held so tightly to him, how she savored the taste of his lips by allowing each kiss to melt gracefully into the next, how her teeth occasionally clashed with his in her alacrity. All the years of childishly chasing after her in fruitless attempts to capture her attention instantaneously and inexplicably became worth the trouble.

However, now that he'd had his first taste, he longed for more – more of her to discover, more of her to devour, more of her to catch up on, after the time he'd spent trying to get to her. Simply kissing her lips was no longer enough; so, he eased out of their kiss with noticeable difficulty and allowed his face to sink into the soft flesh of her neck as he pressed his lips to the erratically warm skin of her throat.

Helpfully, she shifted somehow, so that she was the one against the wall instead of him with his legs around her, and tilted her head back to the hard stone in order to give him ample skin to work with. The quietest of sounds escaped her lips as his tongue began to work its magic on her – they were music to his ears.

"You feel nice, Jamie," she remarked, affectionately running her fingers through his hair as he reached her chin and worked his way around her jaw. "Much nicer than Tom, or Anthony, or even Preston."

His only response was a grunt as he nibbled at her ear, coming very close to biting it with his force. She giggled yet again.

"Oh, Jamie," she almost groaned, pushing his head away from her as she took his face in her quivering hands. "Don't do this to me, Jamie. You know I can't do this."

"You're not dating anyone, are you?" he asked, just to be sure.

"No, I'm not," she said. "Are you?"

"I broke up with Alicia Norton two weeks ago," he told her, referring to an uncharacteristically short relationship he had attempted with very little success a short while ago.

"Did you love her?" Her question was shameless; he could even imagine the look in her eyes as he kissed her collarbone.

But, when he answered, he didn't even pause for thought. "No."

"Do you love _me_?"

James leaned forward and kissed her again – deeply, albeit briefly. "Yes." The single word was filled with too much pent-up, unreleased tenderness for her to doubt him, even for a moment.

She smiled guiltily, and kissed him once more, matching his previous intensity but ending it much sooner. "Oh, Jamie, please don't love me."

"Too late." He stroked her cheek impatiently, resisting the urge to kiss her all over again. "You have no excuses, and neither do I. It's a dead end – nowhere else to run."

She shifted them again, and when she felt him settle against the hard surface behind him, she cuddled more comfortably into his lap, as she'd done before, and brought his head down for another kiss. "You're much yummier than the bucket, to tell you the truth."

He kissed her back willingly. "Glad to hear it," he said.

Lily smiled into his mouth and kissed him for another solid minute, pure and full of longing, before she repeated, "Jamie, please don't do this to me."

"What am I doing to you? _You _kissed _me_, if I remember correctly," he reminded her.

"But…you're so _yummy_, Jamie," she said, her hand lovingly exploring the bones and features of his face. "I like you."

"I like you too," he told her, closing his eyes to fully relish her touch.

"I'm drunk," she said confidentially, as though it was an enormous secret to be revealed only to a select few. "I'm _very _drunk. Like, to the point where I'm not even responsible for virtually _anything_."

"I know." He transported her up to him at a better-suited angle and planted another kiss on her mouth before locking eyes with her as seriously as their conditions would let them. "I know, and that's why I don't want to take any advantages over you. You should want this, you should want _me_ – otherwise, it would be wrong. Do you want me, Lily?"

"I want you, Jamie," she said demurely, almost seductively, eyes glittering. "I really, really want you."

"That's good," he said, sitting her up so that he could kiss her with further ease. "Because I really, really want you as well."

"So, wait," Lily said slowly, as though recapping their muddled conversation. "So, if _you_ want _me_, Jamie, and _I _want y_ou…_then what's stopping us from taking each other?"

"Absolutely nothing, Lily Flower," he said, his nose pressing against her jaw as he inhaled her in for a few seconds and then resurfaced. "I just wasn't sure if it would be…appropriate."

Her eyes were utterly intense as she told him, very solemnly, "Take me, Jamie."

"I thought you said you didn't want me to love you," he said to her as he picked up her hand and held it in both of his.

"I'm really confused," she said, as though confessing a cardinal sin. "I don't know what I want; but I do know that I kind of want you. So maybe you shouldn't listen to me and you should just take me before I change my mind again."

He kissed the hand he was holding, and trailed tiny, coveting kisses up her arm until he reached her neck again, at which point he began urging her downwards until she was lying down on the floor of the broom cupboard with him on top of her, his face now continuing to enjoy the sticky skin of her neck.

"I think I can do that," he said to her with a smile when he re-emerged, tangling his legs up with hers.

She smiled back, and leaned up to kiss him once, her lips as sweet as they were the first time she launched herself at him. "Maybe that's welcome news."

"Okay then." He leaned down, and kissed her entirely too keenly. "You're mine."

She giggled into his mouth, but kissed him with equal keenness as she said into his lips, "Cool."

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**A/N: Gah, that chapter was so disgustingly fluffy I was feeling ill while I wrote it…but I think I've owed it to you for a while now, lol. Hope it was okay – I've not written pure fluff in a while now.**

**FYI - This is nowhere near winding-down stage. Chapter count has hit 47, remember? So that means we still have more to go. Drunk Lily has to get sober next chapter, and then the angsty romantic end comes into play. In case you were wondering, lol.**

**Please remember to review, though, and I will see you lot next chapter!**


	38. Had They or Hadn't They?

**A/N: Well, there must be something about being fifteen that makes me feel rather kind...which is why I updated again on the same day! That hasn't happened in a while, so I figured, hey, why not? It's a ****long chapter with yet another cliffie…but, ah well, more for you, lol.**

**Enjoy, and review, yeah?**

**And seriously, thanks for all your reviews. Each of them are eternally loved.**

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It started with the sensation of falling.

It was such a strange sensation – her stomach was fluttering, and seeming to float somewhere outside of her person, so that the empty void it left behind was replaced only by disturbingly unsatisfying air.

Lily had always hated falling. It was the reason she avoided heights at all costs.

Everything felt so real, as she continued to fall continuously into a nameless, faceless vortex somewhere far below her, but she knew that it couldn't be. She wasn't in a place where she could fall; she was in a _broom cupboard_ with _James Potter_. There was no room to breathe, let alone fall.

She was probably asleep, and dreaming about falling. That was far more likely.

She ought to wake up. She ought to open her eyes and get her bearings back, because Marly would be sure to come soon to pick them up. She ought to figure out how to cure her horrible headache, as well. She ought to be doing a lot of things, but she was far too warm and comfortable to move.

She didn't feellike doing anything. She couldn't remember when she fell asleep last night, because of all the wine that James had pushed her to drink, but she was tired. Exhausted, even. Today was going to be a hideously long day – if she could prolong it a little more, she most certainly would.

She groaned at the thought, and snuggled further into where she was, vaguely aware of how tightly she was curled up and the angle she was at. This was _so nice_; she had never been this at ease before. She liked it; she liked it very much. But, of course, all good things had to come to an end eventually, so she yawned and tried to convince herself that waking up was indeed a very good idea.

The idea was doing a poor job of clicking. Damn.

Again, Lily groaned, and tried to move her limbs, to inspire some motion out of them. They refused to move more than a few millimeters. Her eyes cracked open slightly, and she could see that it was still quite dark in the cupboard. She wondered why, so she checked her watch. It informed her that it was five fifty in the morning. Brilliant.

She yawned again, and made her eyes open a little more fully, focusing on the dark shapes of the cupboard. She was facing the ceiling at an angle, which meant she was in some awkward sitting position very near the ground. It was a very snug place she was at – she wondered if James had found some kind of chair to put her on during the course of the night. She might steal it and use it during other sleepless nights in her dormitory, if that was the case.

She yawned a third time and realized, thanks to the sharp pain deep within her guts, that she was extremely hungry. She hoped Marly would let them out in time for breakfast – or would at least bring something to eat for breakfast. Lily was hungry enough for anything by this point. The wine had been satisfactory for the moment, but now it wasn't; and it had come with the cost of a pounding headache. She would probably throw up, too, at some point in the day.

The day. Oh yes, the day that still existed – the day she still had to find a way to live through. Yuck; she would have to start getting to that, then. Although she really didn't want to, she supposed she would have to get up now, and see if James was awake.

Taking a deep breath of preparation, Lily blinked a few times to make her eyes adjust to the light of the broom cupboard. It was just the same as it had been last night – even the smell of burning still lingered about the still air. The record player lay motionless on its side in the space opposite her; it looked as though it had been kicked away at some point to make room for something or another. The weakly-glowing "candle" and the wine bottles – one empty and the other with very little remaining – were very near her too. Everything was as quiet as a cemetery; it both helped and hindered the progress of her aching brain.

She shook her head, and sat up a little more, so to be able to figure out where in the cupboard she was. She was on the floor, as she'd guessed. She'd figured as much – there was a definite lack of room in this claustrophobic broom cupboard, and there was no other way to sleep in semblances of ease.

However, she did notice that her shirt was very rumpled on her person, as if it had been jostled around quite a lot over the course of the night. She thought nothing of it though – her nightshirts always looked like monsters in the morning.

Her skirt was bunched up around her thighs, as if it, too, had been jostled – that was the second thing she noticed. She thought nothing of this either; it was understandable for her skirt to be bunched, with all the movements she usually made while she was asleep.

The third thing she noticed was that her shoulder felt rather cold; something didn't feel right there. She glanced down at it, and to her deep and utter horror, she found that her shirt had been partially unbuttoned so that it slipped to reveal her pale skin and lacy bra strap – which was also looping loosely around her upper arm. She could feel that one of the two hooks on her bra had been undone, and the garment itself wasn't in its proper place.

She almost screamed. What the hell had happened last night?!

She finally looked down to where she was curled up, and got her second surprise of the morning: she was on James Potter's lap, with his hand in her hair, and his shirt was completely unbuttoned from the front to reveal his chest, which she was currently rubbing up against!

The impulse to scream was greater this time – it was with great difficulty that she suppressed it.

Shaking with revulsion at these discoveries, Lily rolled off of James and landed on the hard stone floor with a thud. James, who was still sound asleep, grunted at the loss of weight crushing his center, and his features wrinkled, as though he was deep in thought about what had just changed. But, his face was quick to smoothen back out when he subconsciously dismissed her, and he was as out as he had been before within a few seconds.

Lily was aghast; she couldn't believe him. She was sure he'd done something he shouldn't have the night before, when she was drunk and vulnerable. It was his fault she was in that situation to begin with! He was horrible. He didn't deserve to sleep while she sat here, so confused and disoriented. That could be easily fixed, thankfully, so she didn't hesitate to put things right – she simply began to violently jiggle him awake, screaming his name to help him along.

"James! James! JAMES! Wake UP, James!" she hollered near his ear, seizing his shoulders and moving them forwards and back as fast as she could. "_JAMES_!"

"Huh? Whaa–" Instantly, James's eyes snapped open and he instinctively pushed Lily's hands away, utterly bewildered. When his unfocused eyes caught sight of her and her distressed face was registered into his brain, which was only just starting up for the day, his befuddled expression only strengthened.

"Lily, you're up!" he said, rubbing his eyes and picking up his glasses from where they had apparently been discarded a few hours before and putting them on. "Hey."

"James, what the _fuck _did you do to me last night?" she demanded, showing him her disheveled self as she hastily fixed the damage. "I can barely remember anything!"

"Good morning to you too," James muttered, rumpling his hair as though it needed further rumpling.

"Ugh, good morning, but this is not a joke, James Potter!" Lily insisted. "I don't have any recollection of what happened over the past few hours, and I'm hoping that you do."

"Well, I'm sorry, Lily Flower, but I don't have many recollections either," he said, recovering, and shrugging as he took his glasses off again to clean them, casual as anything.

"Your shirt was unbuttoned. My shirt was unbuttoned. My bra was half-off of me. You have to remember _some_thing, James," she told him.

"I can remember little things, like how you didn't like that one Frank Sinatra song, Taking a Chance on Love," he said nonchalantly, "and that you kept calling me Jamie because it was fun for you to say. I can remember the candle burning the lily vines I made for you and us trying to put out the resulting fire. That's about it though; I don't know much more than that. Otherwise, it's all little images – images of you, of the fire, of the Frank Sinatra case you cuddled at one point. But that's it. I'm as in-the-dark as you are."

"There was a fire?" Lily sniffed the air. "Oh yes, I think I can remember that now. You kicked the bucket, and the whole thing came up in flames."

"Yeah, there was that." James yawned, and rumpled his hair again before buttoning up his shirt. "I don't think much else stuck with me though. Sorry."

This, of course, was a lie – James did remember much more than that. He had actually been a little more sober than Lily, and could vividly recall the incident when he asked Lily what she wanted, and she kissed him. He could also vividly recall the rest of the kisses that followed the first one, as well as the lustful things she'd whispered in his ear, the shirt unbuttoning she was currently freaking out about, and the moment when he almost unhooked her bra but she stopped him, saying they were going too fast too soon. The last memory he had was when Lily somehow managed to fall asleep in his lap as they babbled about virtually nothing for the sake of passing time, and when he began to feel his own sleep taking over him too irresistibly to defy.

However, he didn't want to tell Lily about it; he was sure she'd take it the wrong way and all hell would be sure to break loose. He didn't particularly feel like visiting Madam Pomfrey so early in the day – it would be easier not to say anything.

Lily could tell, though, that he was keeping something from her. Instinctively, she knew, and she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She put on her most imposing expression, and informed him, "You're lying to me. Tell me what you remember. Tell me why I look like this."

"I'm not lying to you," James said steadily. He was about to continue defending himself, because he was sure he could win his way through, but then he decided to throw her a bone – the girl was obviously quite perplexed. He could give her _that _much.

"Okay," he amended, "I do remember now ("I knew it!") that you…I asked you what one of your secret, dirty desires was, because I was curious and it was my turn for Truth, and you answered b-by kissing me. And it went from there."

"I did that?" Lily was looking aghast all over again. "No, no, I couldn't have."

"You were drunk – and you did," James said. "We kissed a lot after that. Clearly."

"Clearly," Lily whispered, her eyes wide with horror. "And…and then I fell asleep on you."

"Yes, you did," he said. "That's the last image I have – of you in my lap, with me holding you, and us drifting off to sleep together." He purposely chose not to disclose how much he'd enjoyed that part.

Lily ran her fingers through her hair, biting her lip, her expression unreservedly distressed. Her head was spinning – it was too early in the morning, this couldn't be happening to her. It couldn't! She had worked so hard over the years not to see James Potter as anything more than a parasite, and she had expertly resisted every bit of charm he'd tried throwing her way. She was a master at it! How could she have succumbed, just because he got some wine into her? How had he turned her mild dislike from before into a corporeal yearning that had probably been satisfied the night before? It was insanity! Hadn't she always shouted it at him, in the middle of their heated rows, that she refused to be one of his ridiculous one-night-stands, good only for one night and then used up for the days after?

This couldn't be right. She didn't feel any different. Did people feel different after they made love to someone? She couldn't be sure, _she'd _never done it. This was so stupid; things like this didn't happen to girls like her! She could have a disease! Worse, she could be pregnant! Another human life had the potential to be growing inside of her at this very moment! She would have to leave Hogwarts forever, because she'd have to take care of the baby! _James Potter's _baby, no less! Oh, Merlin; she'd never live this one down!

From loathing to sex with James Potter! Marly would be thrilled beyond her wildest dreams if she caught wind of this. Lily couldn't possibly tell her; it would be far too embarrassing. Gryffindor House would never let her hear the end of this – sex in a broom cupboard was far too cliché in this school, and far too silly for a girl such as herself. _Merlin_…

Lily bit down on her tongue by mistake, instead of her lip, and looked wildly to James again. He was continuing to sit there, looking at her as he waited politely for her to say something – since she clearly had things to say on the matter. He looked almost amused to see haphazard she appeared; he had never seen her in the morning. She preferred if no one did – she was always a bit of a mess at such hours.

"James," she said finally, her voice surprisingly desperate. "James, please tell me we didn't…we didn't…" She was blushing furiously, and really had to swallow her self-pride as she finished nearly inaudibly, "Please tell me we didn't _do it _last night."

James did not cringe at her word choice or at the nature of what she was suggesting. He didn't look that shocked, either; he actually looked as though he'd been expecting this. He checked the state of his glasses against the flame, and began busying himself by cleaning them before he innocently asked her, "Did what?"

Lily gave him an exasperated look as she adjusted her shirt. "Honestly, James, you know what I mean. Did we, or didn't we?"

He considered toying with her a little further, and playing dumb because seeing her go pink in the face trying to reason with him amused him to no end, but he decided against it. Lily had just had a pretty wild night with him in a _broom cupboard_, of all places; he figured he could be kind to her and answer her as thoroughly as he could. He was pretty astonished by the events of the evening himself, to be honest – astonished and slightly revolted. If they had done it, it would have been his second time out of two doing it drunk. It was not a good track record; it was actually quite embarrassing.

However, he forced himself with considerable difficulty not to think about his love life, and channeled his thinking towards the obscure events of the previous night. Had they done it? It was a fair question, really. He seriously wasn't sure if they had. It certainly didn't _feel _as if they had – the memories of the day after Janey were crystal-clear to him, even now, and it hadn't been like this.

But, at the same time, he couldn't take his gut instinct for granted. They might have done it – it would have been very easy, and quite natural, with the way they'd been going. He wouldn't be shocked if they had; their relationship had been alive with sexual tension for years, and releasing all of it in one passionate night under the dark cover of the broom cupboard after nearly six long years of keeping it in would not be such an astonishing deed.

It could have gone either way, really – they would never truly know. Had they, or hadn't they? It was their little unsolved mystery, a shadowy weight over their already-full heads. It always would be. He considered telling her this, but he knew from the look on her face that she wouldn't like that, best answer or not. She was looking for something definitive – which left him only with his own intuition. Which he ended up relying on anyway.

"You know, Lily, I don't think we did," he said, as he secured his glasses back on his nose and looked her in the eye. "I think we came really, really close – to the point where we were probably both physically ready for it – but our good sense won over at the very last second. I think it was you who stopped me, and I'm glad you did."

He paused then before thinking hesitantly aloud, his tone careful but somehow faraway at the same time. "If I made love to you last night, Lil, we would have made a bigger mess out of ourselves – if that's even humanly possible. I don't want your first time to be like mine was. I don't want you to end up regretting me. If I ever do make love to you, it should be because we both want to, not because we _can_. Do you get what I'm going for here?"

Lily's expression was thoughtful, but somehow rueful as she looked almost sadly at him, hugging her knees as she did when she felt overwhelmed. "I think I do," she said, her voice sounding muted and far away.

"Then why do you look like that?" he wanted to know.

"I'm fine," Lily said shortly, running her hand tiredly through her hair nonetheless. "Honest. I'm…I'm just…I'm a little…I'm…oh, never mind. I'm _fine_." She cleared her throat. "It's five fifty-seven just now, so we roughly two hours left in here. Can we just…endure them quietly, then? Without any more questions? This'll go by much faster i-if we do."

James could only stare at Lily almost blankly, utterly in-shock, as he took in her face, her body, and the way she'd said what she had. There was so much to analyze – the design of his shirt imprinted into her cheek, the haywire brightness all too evident in her green eyes, the remaining aura of disarray that hung about her person. Even after she revealed a sizeable portion of her soul to him through an alcohol-fueled romp in the broom cupboard, Lily Evans still seemed to have so much left to hide.

It was _maddening_; just so_ maddening_.

A week later, it seemed, his response to her pathetic plea came to her – and it was much harsher than either of them had bargained for:

"Lily, this is one thing about you that I loathe more than anything; that every time I try to come to you to help you, to be a safe person you can be yourself around, you shove me away and make me feel like a criminal for being nice! If you don't want me in your life, just _say _so and _mean _it; stop playing so many fucking games with me! There's only so much one guy can stand!"


	39. The Price of Being Private

**A/N: Okay, so there was a little confusion last chapter – in case you were muddled, NO, the cupboard is NOT opened yet. The week later? That was a **_**comparison**_**, because it **_**felt **_**like a week. Only a few hours really passed; it is now the morning of their release and they are on a pretty bad note, as will be seen in this chapter. Don't know why this caused so much trouble…I thought I wrote it clearly enough...but that's fine, lol.**

**Enjoy then, darlings. Thanks!**

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Lily blinked once.

The expression on James's face didn't change.

Lily blinked twice.

The same image met her eyes. She closed them and exhaled deeply, sinking her face into her hands.

Suddenly, she felt very tired. Her sleepless night was catching up with her, and she didn't want to argue. Contrary to popular belief, James had usually been the one in combat mode, ready to pick a fight with her and say what he wanted to say. He had told her once that she was more likely to listen to him when she was angry than she did when she was just talking to him; that was why he did it. It seemed today, months after they'd really spoken to each other at all, was no exception to the rule.

She resurfaced from the darkness of her hands and looked back at him, biting at her lips with her gaze on his chin rather than his eyes.

"James…don't do this to me right now, I shouldn't have to deal with it when I'm still half-asleep," she said. "I don't play games with you. I never have."

"No, Lily, you do," he told her, his tone icy and bitter all of a sudden. "You drive me mother-fucking _crazy_, you know that?"

"I figured as much, but I don't do it to spite you. I don't even know what I do to cause it," she attempted to explain. "I barely recall what I did last night, James, so don't you dare hold any of that against me."

"What you did when you were drunk does not concern me at the moment," James said impatiently, dismissively. "It's what you do when you're sober that kills me."

Lily sighed and continued to purse her lips, her gaze away from him as she hugged her knees, her position huddled and passive. "What is that, James?"

"It's the fact that every time I feel like I'm getting somewhere with you, you go and do this!" He gestured forcefully at her. "Why do you act like I'm going to kill you all the time? I'm not; I'm actually doing the exact opposite, if you'd take the time to see it. You're so damn afraid of me that I wonder what I could possibly have done that made you feel that way. What did I do, Lils? What is it that makes you lead me on with supposed progress and then drop me with your silence at the end of it?"

"You…don't do anything," she said, her voice strengthening with indignation at the tone of his voice. "You're absolutely fine, James Potter, you're not in the wrong, you're not in trouble, you're absolutely wonderful. It's me that's doing everything, it's me that's causing all the trouble, it's me that needs to be fixed. I'm not afraid of you – I'm _terrified_ of you. I plot every night in my sleep on the best way to lead you on the next day, and I celebrate when it works. Your pain is my joy. Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you want me to say? Because if it is, I'll say it again and again, if it makes you fucking _happy_."

Stung, James surveyed her with all of his previous bitterness and a little bit more. "No, that's _not _what I want to hear."

"Well, then you'll have to fill me in on what you do want to hear, because I honestly have no clue," Lily shot at him, coming out of her unreceptive stance to her more combative one, on her knees instead of hugging them with her fingers curled into fists. "Go on, tell me, James, and I'll say it until I go blue in the face."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to order you to do anything."

Lily's pout was quite acidic as she looked back at him with glittering eyes, admittedly stunning in all her aggravation. "Yeah? Then quit lecturing me, as though I'm some pathetic, frightened little girl who needs a hand to hold and implying that I ought to be more honest with you. I don't need to do _anything _for you – it's actually quite insulting that you consider yourself my self-appointed guardian angel, because you're _not_. I never wanted you to be. If I did, I would've come to you _myself _because I know how to get what I want."

When he didn't say anything, frozen by the abrupt change in the upper hand over the argument, she continued to speak, enlightened and fortified by some unknown spark inside of her. "I know what I'm doing, in case you didn't know it, James. If I say or do something you don't get, it's _my _business, and not yours – if and when I choose to share it with you, you'll know whatever you need to know, but not before then. Never before then. Don't you dare victimize me for taking advantage of my rightful privacy, you got that? I am nearly an adult, and I don't appreciate being treated like a child – don't think even for a second I'll let you get away with that."

Once she'd gotten this off her chest, the beat of her heart a little too fast and her breath a little too heavy, she watched him coldly for his response, an odd sense of pride filtering through her. She had told him off rather well, she thought; she'd gotten her point across, and because she was right, he had a high standard to match with his argument.

But, she had no doubt he would match her and baffle her right away – he was very good at doing so. He'd done it for years, and already, this was feeling like an argument they might have had in fourth or fifth year – she was sure he'd have something big to say.

And he did.

"I'm not treating you like a child!" he insisted angrily. "For Merlin's sake, why the fuck would I do that? I'm not invading your privacy, nor am I pretending to be your 'self-appointed guardian angel,' as you put it. I'm trying…I'm trying to help you, okay, but that's because you have absolutely no idea how you come off on other people. If you did, then maybe you'd get it."

"Enlighten me, then," she demanded at once. "How do I come off to other people? I'm interested to know."

James paused, searching wildly for his words, his lips still parted in preparation for their arrival, but somehow, the arrival never did come. So, stuttering, he burst out, "Well, that's beside the point right now!"

Lily barked a laugh – an unsympathetic, short-lived, utterly un-Lily-like laugh. "Beside the point now, is it? You're absolutely insufferable."

"As are you, getting on your high horse on me again," he nearly spat at her. "You've always loved acting like you've got this limitless strength on me when we argue; but honestly, you know you're only saying all this because it's easier than cooperating with me."

"Obviously, you are still as arrogant as ever, despite how much you've claimed to change this year," Lily said scathingly, taking a savage pleasure in saying exactly what she knew would hurt him most – clawing at him like the sharpest of fingernails into his breakable skin. "I don't _need_ to cooperate with you at all! No matter how messed up you think I am, no matter how messed up I actually may be, you have no right to tell me what I should or shouldn't do! That decision lies with _me, _and me _alone_, and I've decided _against_ you – which I can see is killing you. Why is that so fucking difficult for you to live with? Do you really need that much control over me?"

It was fourth year all over again – Lily's blood was racing, hot and tumultuous, through her fragile veins, warming her and building layer upon layer on her blinder of an inferno. She was dipping perilously close to the ranges of not being able to control herself anymore, all in the range of a few minutes, just when she woke up in the morning. She wasn't surprised though; it always happened like that. James Potter had always had the amazing capability of bringing out the very best and very worst out of her.

And, as she raged at him, her anger fiery and outward while his was chilly as ice and inward, she could swear she saw the flash of hurt glimmer like a shooting star behind the cloudy eyes she had gotten to know so well – it was the flash she had looked for as a young girl, to know if she claimed her victory yet or not, and sure enough, it was there just when she thought it would be.

The end was inevitable now; despite how livid she knew he was with her on the inside, he wasn't going to fight with her much anymore. He left the fuming and dramatics to her most of the time, while he gave his two cents to fuel the fire and backed off, knowing she would soon recall his words with regret and take them to heart as he had intended she should.

Every time, their rows followed exactly the same blueprint; and yet, it felt different to each no matter how many times they did it. This one in particular seemed more bitter than usual, when their words and actions of the previous night were taken into account.

So, keeping this in mind, James's eyes narrowed down to near slits behind his glasses, and he ran his hand through his hair, moistening his lips with his tongue as he quickly analyzed the situation.

Then he spoke, with quiet resentment so cold it managed to extinguish her entire firestorm with only a few words: "If that's how you feel, Lily, then I would suggest that you stop talking to me with civility you clearly don't mean, because it sends messages that obviously implicate different sentiments to you and me. Or, better, you could refrain from speaking to me at all, because quite frankly, I don't think I can handle any more of this – or of you."

It was only now that Lily faltered, that some of her normal, thoughtful self crackled through her masks of green; even at their worst, he would only stalk off for the evening, only to return the next day, eager to continue where they left off. "M-maybe I'll do that. Maybe I _won't _talk to you. Maybe things will be better that way – i-if that's what you want."

"It's not what _I_ want – it's what you've been trying to tell me for five and a half years," James said, his tone unchanging although any and all emotion in his hazel eyes evaporated on the spot. "So I'm listening to you, as you've wished I would since the day I crossed paths with you in the first place."

He rose to his feet then, while Lily continued to sit on the ground, watching him with uncertainty written all over her expression. He then moved to the other side of the broom cupboard, the farthest away from her, and said the last words he would say to her for the rest of the time they were in the cupboard:

"I give up, Evans. You win. The moment we're out of here, I'll be gone, and you won't have to worry about me again. I can promise you that."


	40. After the Storm Tried to Settle

**A/N: I had the whole big-fight deal last update, obviously, so this is like the very short cool-off chapter. I felt the need to give you James's thoughts on the whole ordeal too, you know? The next chapter will resume plot and all that good stuff.**

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The quiet in the cupboard was very nearly unbearable.

It was the bitterest, most suffocating of quiets, grabbing hold of each teenager and squeezing them until it was a wonder they could even continue on with this – it was a quiet completely their own, because no other pair could reach the level of vindictiveness it took to achieve it.

James didn't know the time. He thought Lily had mentioned it was near six – it was probably past six by now, which meant they had a little under two hours left together before they were allowed to go their own separate ways. He honestly didn't care anymore; the girl was frustrating him so much by this point that he was fine with enduring the silence for those two hours because it was better than talking any more to her.

Talking to Lily Evans was oftentimes like talking to a brick wall – she was stubborn as hell, and made no move whatsoever to change herself.

She never had, really. There had been a time when he loved that most about her. Now, he wasn't as sure – would it be better to wish her tamer and tweak the girl he fell in love with, or would it be better to just accept her for the fireball he knew she was at heart?

At this moment, he had no answer. He doubted he would for a while. For now, he would just rest, and wait – and possibly kill Marly along with Lily when she came to unlock them. All the potential bonding time he'd had with Lily at the beginning of this bizarre escapade had been wasted on preliminaries, and when it was time to actually get _some_where, to bring the point of being there into light, the plan fell apart.

It was frustrating beyond all imagination – they'd been so close! They'd broken through crucial barriers yesterday, and now, it all amounted to nothing by the way they were acting. Absolutely nothing.

He hated it. Not for the first time, he wondered why he had ever even liked Lily Evans to begin with – why he had spent so much of his teenage life chasing after her. Everyone had thought him crazy for doing it, including Lily herself. What had been his motivation? What made it worthwhile? What got him through the many failures he'd endured through the years? He could barely remember anymore, which was not a good sign.

He looked across from him to the girl leaning her head back against the shelves behind her, twirling her hair – as fiery as her temper – idly between her fingers with an unreadable expression decorating her features. Something darkly sweet, fragilely powerful, lovingly frustrated constricted in his chest, straining his heart and lungs, and threatened to burst through in an almighty internal wave at any moment. He had to physically clutch his knee to keep his composure, so strong was his impulse to get up and both hug her and slap her across the face.

She'd always done that to him – given him that feeling that he was going to lift off and take flight at any moment without the use of his broomstick, only to crash into a building in the middle of the exhilarating ride.

She was the oxymoron – the paradox – of his life, giving him pain and pleasure in equal, titanic parts with every little thing she did. He didn't even know why, but she did, and he was helpless to the way his mind and body reacted to her. It was as though they were separate from him on these occasions, feeling what they wanted and then imposing them on him whether or not he liked it.

She was staring out into space, lost in her own little world, and that was the most trying part of this whole tribulation – the fact that without meaning to, without even paying him any of her attention, she could tie him into knots no other person could put him into.

Guilt or regret for the way things usually turned out with her had absolutely nothing to do with it; she was simply a built-in weakness, one he had no control over, and clearly, it had become his undoing.

It was horrible, exasperating. It was going to take him a long time to retrain himself to being indifferent towards her from this point on. Already, they had only just stopped rowing and he could barely keep his eyes off of her.

With a sigh she would never hear, he rested his elbow on his knee, and let his face rub against the palm of his open hand with sudden exhaustion. He hadn't slept enough last night, or the night before, he had been awoken too unexpectedly by Lily this morning, and he'd done enough fighting to last him the rest of the week. It wasn't good for him.

James looked one last time at Lily, who seemed ready to take another cat-nap before their release, and then closed his eyes as well, although it wasn't to sleep:

In seventeen hours, he and Lily Evans had gone from ungainly strangers with an explosive past to cooling hotheads who wanted nothing more to do with the other – the question he wished to ponder was, how in the name of Merlin's third-cousin-twice-removed had such promising events gone so damn wrong?


	41. Not Quite Going as Planned

_SLAM!_

At long, sweet last – after seventeen straight hours of imprisonment – the broom cupboard door finally slammed open with excited force, utterly startling the teenage inhabitants still stewing in the residue of the past several minutes.

James's first gut-reaction was, 'What the fuck is going on?!'

Lily, who was sitting the closer to the door, cried out and cringed when the daylight hit her shadow-accustomed eyes and instinctively covered her face with her arm. James was not sitting too far away from either the girl or the door, and yelped as well, but buried his head between his knees in order to block the light.

It was not at all welcome so soon, or so suddenly – both were almost resentful, now that they'd finally gotten what they had wanted from the very beginning. James's question still proudly stood, now in the minds of both – 'what the fuck is going on?!'

However, this didn't stop bubbly, blonde-haired Marlene McKinnon from squealing loudly nonetheless.

"Lily! James! Hey, you two, I'm here!" she announced unnecessarily, acting like an escaped firework as usual. It took an extra millisecond or two for her declaration to settle into Lily's and James's ears, because they'd not heard a human voice besides the other's in a while.

"Marly?" Lily asked weakly, lowering her arm very slightly to give her eyes time to regulate a bit.

"Is that seriously you?" James took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes vigorously so he could squint up to put the voice to the face.

"Yes, it's me!" Marly chirped. "Good morning! Did I wake you?"

"My watch says it's only six thirty," Lily said, disgruntled as she checked and ignored her question. "You said you'd be here by around eight."

"I know, but I took pity on you," Marly explained, positively enthralled by this idea. "I figured I'd let you out now, because I was just _dying _to know what's been going on in here since I locked you in!"

Her smile was bright as she stepped in to take a look around. With a quick sweep of her eyes, she was able to take in the discarded wine bottles, the charred ceiling and shelves, the buckets, the record player, and the boy and girl themselves, still attempting to soothe their unadjusted eyes. She then sniffed, and immediately wrinkled her delicate little nose with disgust.

"What the hell have you been doing in here?" she wanted to know. "Why do I smell burnt wood and a faint scent of…piss?"

"The burning is the result of a fire in here, because of our bucket candles," Lily explained, her tone deadly as she managed to look Marly in the face without the light bothering her. "The piss is because you didn't give us a damn toilet or anything to pass for one in here, Marlene!"

Marly's rosy face went a few shades paler when she heard this. "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry, Lily! I completely forgot that you'd need a bathroom in there!"

Lily's face was taut as she stiffly said, "Yes. Obviously, you did."

Marly was the epitome of apology as she bit her lip and looked at the two of them – James had joined Lily in giving Marly the most irritated look he could muster at this early hour. "I'm so incredibly sorry," she gushed. "What did you do?"

"Went in buckets – what else _could _we do?" James took over.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry," Marly repeated. "But…but how was the food? Was that okay, did you find it all right?"

"When we were trying to wash our hands, we accidentally sprayed the food bag with water and soaked everything in it," Lily reported irately. "We drank wine all night."

"Ooh, and you found the record player, too!" Marly's expression reverted back to cheerfulness at this thought. "That must have been romantic, huh?"

"Not exactly," James said, shaking his head.

"Marlene, why the _hell _did you do this to us?" Lily demanded, springing up from the floor of the cupboard. "This was so damn _stupid_ I can't even tell you! What the fuck were you thinking?! Seventeen hours! That's how long I was in there, cooped up when I should have been doing my _homework_, or _sleeping_, or _eating a big meal in the Great Hall_, or _talking to you lot_! _SEVENTEEN HOURS!"_

Marly appeared rather frightened as Lily stormed her pent-up anger at her, and took a step back. "Lily, I was trying to help you," she said uncertainly. "I…I thought it would be good for you and James to talk out your differences together without the rest of Gryffindor House interfering with your business."

"It _wasn't_!" Lily exploded. "Marlene, you made everything ten times _worse_!"

"Even with the Frank Sinatra?" Marly asked, her eyes distressed. "But I thought that was a nice touch!"

"Oh it was _brilliant_," Lily said bitterly. "Just bloody _marvelous_."

Now, James stood up as well, and stepped out of the cupboard, stretching out and yawning, rumpling up his hair and generally enjoying the luxury of being in an open space. Marly took another step back away from Lily, and asked James rather timidly, "It wasn't…_that _bad, was it?"

"Actually, yeah, it was about that bad," James said matter-of-factly, sorry to have to agree. "If you hoped Lily and I would emerge out of that cupboard as a couple, then I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we're not. We never will be."

Lily glanced at James, her eyes indecipherable as she began to chew on her bottom lip, but James's eyes were only on Marly, who was looking rather upset.

"I didn't hope for you to be a couple, because you're proved that to be an impossibility by now, but I did hope you would be at least _friends_," she confessed.

"We're not," Lily insisted shortly. "Please don't interfere with James and I anymore, because there's nothing to interfere with."

"I'd appreciate that," James added.

"Now, I would kill you right this second, as I'd planned, Marly, but I'm a tad hungry after eating nothing for several hours," Lily said, trying with difficulty to relax herself so that her tone business-like and ice-cool. "I'm going to stuff my face in the Great Hall for a bit and calm down, and I'll see you in first period, all right?"

She didn't wait for an answer; she only brushed by Marlene in her haste to leave the corridor and go to her dormitory quickly for a change of clothes, possibly a shower. She wanted nothing more to do with James or Marly, since she was thoroughly frustrated by both of them, and she figured some alone time would do her nicely after being in company with the same person for nearly twenty-four hours. The solitude would be more than welcome.

James, however, didn't leave as quickly as Lily did. He watched her retreat with quickly-paced steps away from him, but he made sure to avert his eyes back to Marly, who was eyeing him with torn confusion and fear.

He chuckled gloomily at the expression on her face, and patted Marly on the shoulder. "You really messed up this time," he remarked. "I'll bet you everything Lily's going to be intolerable today."

"I bet she will be too," Marly concurred despondently.

"Good luck with her." He shrugged, and then walked off in the direction Lily had gone to go straight to the Great Hall for some breakfast.

However, when he was more than half-way down the hall, he called back to Marly, who was still standing in front of the cupboard pondering on what to do next, "Oh, and Marlene? If you so much as _think _the words 'broom cupboard' in my presence ever again, I swear to you I _will _use an Unforgivable on you. Broom cupboards are far too overrated in this school."

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**A/N: And they're out of the broom cupboard now, but on very bad terms…what could crazy Zay possibly be planning for them next?! We'll see next chapter though, lol – hope you liked that, and please be courteous & review!**


	42. An Inevitable Thirst for Particulars

**A/N: So yesterday, I got my very first flame! Ha. Gotta love it when people think you can't write real books in the morning…**

**Anyway, this chapter would've been up a little earlier, but when I read the first draft, I realized just how unfit it was – so I had to rewrite a good portion of it. So, now, here it is; I hope you like it.**

**If you review me, I'll obviously love it, but please – leave out the flames. They're really rude.**

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Lily had never felt as free as she did when she finally got herself into a hot shower, put on new clothes, and choked down enough breakfast to feed a military cavalry.

For the past seventeen hours – although it felt like at least two weeks to her – she had missed her freedoms more than she realized and having them back was almost overwhelmingly wonderful. She'd had enough of James Potter to last her the rest of her life inside that godforsaken cupboard, and for the entire morning until first period, she didn't even have to look at him once.

As she'd established earlier in the cupboard, while musing on her own, _that _was what she defined as freedom.

She didn't talk to Marly, either, as the morning progressed, and Marly was smart enough to avoid her best friend. Instead, Lily talked to other friends, who had missed her yesterday and wanted to know where she'd gone. Obviously, Marly had not filled them in on her devious deed, and Lily wasn't about to change this – all she would say to any of them was that she was busy the other night, and they bought it with skeptical shrugs. Good enough.

When it was nearly time to go to class, Lily checked her schoolbag to see if her homework for today was complete – two essays assigned three days ago, a set of questions, and a difficult reading from her textbook – and was astonished to see that she'd already done most of it two nights before. She would need to do some speed-working through History of Magic, in which she never really paid too much attention, but other than that, she was safe! Her worries had been in vain, and that immediately brightened her mood considerably as she went to first period Charms arm-in-arm with Alice Prewitt, who was chatting happily about what her boyfriend, Frank Longbottom, did yesterday. Lily listened eagerly, gasped and giggled in all the right places, and generally willed herself to forget the horrific events of the past day.

It worked well – by the time she got into the classroom, she was her cheerful, laughing self again as she sat next to Alice in the back of the room. Marly sat a few seats away, and James sat at the other end of the room, but none of the three ever glanced at the others. They all figured it was safer if they didn't, and somehow, the period managed to go as smoothly as it ever did.

It was as though Lily and James had never gone to the broom cupboard, with all the interaction they indulged in, and although Marly didn't like to note it, she had to admit that Lily had been right – her brilliant plan had ended up failing miserably.

Fuck.

Marly managed to make it through her classes with Lily quietly up until their lunch period, at which point she finally broke. She knew she had to speak to her friend, and figure out what went wrong in that cupboard. Obviously something had, because not only had the cupboard been a mess, _they'd _been a mess – when Marly had opened the cupboard door, the pair of them had been sitting as far from the other as they could, not speaking but staring out into space, and it was clear some sort of nuclear meltdown had occurred. It was plain when this sort of thing happened; Gryffindor House had witnessed many throughout the years.

In short, Marly McKinnon needed details, and seeing as she wasn't very close to James, evasive Lily would have to do. Somehow.

So, when the bell rang to dismiss the sixth years to lunch, Marly followed Lily out of Ancient Runes and took her wrist when the girls got to the doors of the Great Hall. Surprised, Lily spun around to see who had just come to her; and her features closed up and cooled significantly when she saw it was Marly.

"Oh, hi, Marbles," Lily said, her tone frosty as she walked on, Marly keeping her pace and walking with her to the Great Hall.

"You know I hate it when you call me Marbles," Marly complained.

"Yeah, I know," Lily cleared her throat, "Marbles."

Marly rolled her eyes. How crude; normally, Lily was much more vindictive than this. Years of rejecting the infamous James Potter had done that for her by now. Calling her Marbles was so…so _first year_. She told her so.

"Fine, then what more could you possibly want from me right now, Marly?" Lily demanded. "I've had more than enough of…I dunno, everything really!"

"And whose fault is that?" Marly said, indignant now.

"Yours," Lily told her curtly, looking ahead instead of at Marly. "You locked me in that mother-fucking broom cupboard when you really shouldn't have. I'm seriously resisting the urge to hex you at the moment, and you're making it mighty difficult."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, then go ahead, hex me!" Marly said loudly, frustrated, throwing her hands in the air as she stopped on the side of the corridor traffic with Lily.

"You know I don't particularly want to do that," Lily said stoutly, chewing viciously on the inside of her mouth.

"You keep saying you do, so forgive me for taking you to your word," Marly shot back, uncharacteristically tart this afternoon.

"_Merlin_, James kept saying that to me _all night_," Lily remembered, a wave of bitter, puncturing irritation clouting her stomach as she suddenly stuffed her face into her hands.

Her hostility melting off of her to see this abrupt display of vulnerability, Marly gently edged forward, and put her hand on Lily's shoulder. "He did?"

Exhaling shortly, Lily resurfaced from her hands, and put them into her pockets, pursing her lips until they were white before releasing them. "Yes," she said brusquely, her tone hard but her eyes oddly softer than Marly had ever heard them. "He did. But in different circumstances."

Marly kept quiet for a few moments, watching Lily stand there with her, but once the quiet came to a level where she couldn't handle it, Marly offered, "If you really, really want to, you can hex me."

Unable to hold back her snicker, Lily smiled slightly, and said, "No, I won't. It won't help matters, not at all."

"I didn't think so," Marly said, although she sounded relieved nonetheless. "It's probably quite the impulse – killing me, you know – but you wouldn't do that."

"Why?" Lily asked anyway, her eyes demure as anything as she observed the blonde girl.

"Because you love me!" Beaming, Marly came forward and hugged Lily, snugly but briefly.

Giving Marly a real smile, her rotten mood with her friend evaporating at once, Lily returned the hug, and said, "I suppose I do, don't I?"

"Of course!" Marly grinned cheekily. "And anyway, I was only trying to help, with the whole broom cupboard deal. It was a good idea! You're just…you seem to be incapable of letting it work out, you know?"

"Marly, that broom cupboard idea was a terrible one," Lily told her wryly. "Honestly…a broom cupboard? For seventeen hours? Even for you, that was too bloody _out-there _to work out, regardless of how incapable you think I am."

"It was damn brilliant," Marly persisted, pouting stubbornly. "You know it was."

"It wasn't," Lily informed her. "You don't just go lock people up in broom cupboards and expect them to fall in love! You can't _do _that!"

"I can, and I did," Marly said triumphantly. "Can't do anything about it now except thank me, really."

"Why would I thank you?" Lily's nose wrinkled in confusion.

"I put you in a broom cupboard with James Potter," Marly said, eyes twinkling. "Why _wouldn't _you thank me?"

"Give me some parchment and I'll count the reasons," Lily muttered.

"Oh, pah, stop being such a prat," Marly said dismissively. "Now c'mon, let's just please get to lunch. I need _particulars_!"

"Particulars?" Lily's eyebrow went up, although the corners of her mouth went up a little as well.

"Particulars, details, whatever you want to call them, I want to know every single one from your night in the broom cupboard," Marly said, her smile enormous as she began to drag her friend in the direction of the Great Hall. "I mean, honestly! Did you talk? Did you drink? Did you _kiss_?"

"A lot happened in there," Lily admitted as they turned a corner. "It was a bit inevitable, with the amount of time we had to be together."

"That was the whole point," said Marly, utterly pleased with herself. "But if a lot happened, then why weren't you…you know…?"

"You mean, why aren't we shagging each other's brains out and being a happy ickle couple?" Lily smirked. "Because not everything that happened in there was good, Marly; it never can be. Putting James and I in a broom cupboard for the night is like dropping a bomb into a volcano – they're probably going to explode."

"Bullshit," Marly said vehemently. "You know you love him. You know he loves you. Why the hell are you not loving each other? It's driving me mad!!"

"Let me tell you the story," Lily reasoned as they reached the Great Hall and Marly opened the door for them, her eyes blazing with curiosity and keenness. "Then I think you might understand what I mean."

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**A/N: So Marly's not going to die! Hooray! But, yeah, the next chapter is in James's POV (although Lily's will return in the chapter after) – so review and we'll see if we can get another swift update. x**


	43. One Hell of an Emotional Lug

**A/N: Some of you have been requesting the appearance of Sirius, and here you have him; him and the rest of the Marauders. Sirius has another brief role in a future chapter (try the next one) though it's pretty trifling, but there you have it.**

**Just thought I'd also mention: a couple of things BlaireVolutri said in one of her reviews got one or two phrases in here – she'll recognize them, lol.**

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The morning he got out of the broom cupboard was a fairly meditative one for James, despite the jubilation he felt upon having his freedoms – like bathroom freedoms – back for good.

The truth of the matter was that he couldn't really get Lily off his mind. He had expected as much, but she was still an annoyingly present part of him as he went down to the Great Hall to devour a few eggs and hearty helpings of bacon. She wasn't so much the yearning ache she could be (and had been, in previous years); she was more the song he couldn't stop humming, the wind that kept rustling his hair, the book he wasn't able to put down:

Seemingly minor, but excruciatingly unavoidable.

As he opened the doors to the Great Hall, he attempted to divert his mind by thinking about the Marauders he had not seen since yesterday. He doubted they would be up yet – Sirius especially liked getting his beauty sleep until at least seven fifty, at which point he rolled leisurely out of bed and turned up in the nick of time to first period – and he figured that was a good thing. He needed a bit of time to himself before he rejoined his best friends, who were bound to be curious about his evening.

After devouring enough breakfast to make even Sirius proud (while discussing Quidditch and the match against Ravenclaw next week with Frank Longbottom and another friend, Georgina Reynolds), he excused himself and bounded upstairs, intending to take a boiling shower and change his clothes.

The hot water felt good on his skin; refreshing, insistent, and absorbing. Coming out of it, James felt almost like a new person – happier, fresher. It was a nice change.

By the time he was clean and well-fed and packing up his bag for the rest of his day in the common room, however, Remus Lupin entered through the portrait hole after having a small breakfast of his own downstairs, and casually asked, "Oh, Prongs – long time, no see. We missed you yesterday, what were you up to?"

"Something…but hey, where are Wormtail and Padfoot?" James wondered.

"Where do you think?" Remus snorted. "They're in bed, burning daylight, as usual."

"Wake them up," James requested. "We've got a little time before class, and I've got one hell of a story to tell you lot."

"Oh, about what you were doing the other day?" Remus considered a moment. "Do you mind telling me where you were?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I spent the night in a broom cupboard?" James asked with a wry smile.

"To my very great sorrow, I believe I can," Remus said, grimacing. "So, who was she, how old was she, and what house is she in?"

James threw Remus a look, but said, "Lily Evans, nearly seventeen, and Gryffindor."

Remus nearly toppled over the sofa he was leaning against in astonishment. "You were with _Lily Evans _in a _broom cupboard _for an entire _night_?"

"Let's wait for Sirius and Peter and I'll explain, because despite what you're probably thinking, it wasn't even my idea," James said.

Remus shook his head with a smile, smacking his forehead into the palm of his head. "Merlin, James, I'm a little afraid," he said. "I'll get the other two, then – I'm sure this is worth a listen."

"It is," James said, only a slight hint of darkness coloring his tone.

Remus's smile remained in place as he went upstairs to the boy's dormitory to awaken the missing Marauders. James settled in on a sofa in the common room as he waited, staring moodily at the burnt-out logs in the fireplace as Lily's face filled his mind's vision, as usual. He absently twirled a lock of his too-long hair between his fingers, wishing it was Lily's, and thought inanely about the hideous day ahead of him.

At least, this was what he was doing until Sirius came barricading down the stairs from the dormitory as though free pizza was being offered in the common room, with a disgruntled Remus and a highly excited Peter in tow. Startled, James watched as Sirius sped towards the closest chair and pulled it up right in front of him, his expression revealing all too clearly that he was ravenous for detail.

"Remus told me that you spent last night in a _broom cupboard _with _Lily fucking Evans_," Sirius reported rapidly, plopping down on his seat, his handsome black locks looking quite erratic. "You are telling us _everything_, Prongsie!"

Hoping to stall, James said, "I thought you didn't get up more than fifteen minutes before first period, Sirius? We have a while yet."

"I don't, but if you had a broom cupboard escapade with _the _Lily Evans, sleeping-time is over," Sirius explained intolerantly. "This is big news – now spill your dirty, Evans-filled guts."

Peter and Remus pulled up chairs of their own, Peter's expression interested, as he said, "Yeah, Prongs – is she as good as you thought she was?"

"Wormy, that's so insensitive!" Sirius roared. "Be more tactful, like this – Jamie, how did your…_uncensored _noche de amor?"

"Since when do _you _speak Spanish?" Peter wondered before James could open his mouth. "I thought you spoke French."

"I do, but I hate French," Sirius clarified. "And I speak a tiny bit of Spanish because once when I was out, this one Spanish girl asked me, 'Quieres una noche de amor conmigo?' I asked her what it meant, and there you have it, Sirius Black speaks Spanish." He flashed a naughty grin.

Peter laughed, and James grinned but went on to say, "Well, it wasn't as full of _amor_ as you'd wish it was, Pads."

"Then go on, tell us what dirty things you _did _do," Sirius prompted impatiently. "C'mon, there has to be something, you can't tell me you spent so much time in a cupboard and did_...nothing."_

"Just…censor those meticulous details to the best of your abilities for our sake," Remus requested, throwing Sirius one of his famous Remus Looks. "I just ate my breakfast – I don't want to see it again."

"What about her knickers?" Sirius wanted to know suddenly, ignoring the Remus Look. "Was it one of those granny panties, or was it a nice, lacy one? I'm betting it's a granny one, because she goes _berserk _if someone tries to take a look at her arse, I saw Preston try it once when he was dating her –"

James shot him a look of his own, and said, "All right then, if you're _so _curious, stop interrupting me and I'll tell you the story."

This finally shut Sirius's mouth up soundly, and he waited expectantly, while Peter and Remus exchanged amused looks. James, already too used to his friends' behavior to mind this, quickly launched ahead with the tale of Marly's daring plan, giving Sirius looks as he went when it was obvious Sirius was having a hard time holding back what he longed to say. He told the story with as much detail as he could remember, vivid flashes of the events he described passing through his head as he spoke of them – his friends were a very good audience, speaking little and wearing appropriately dramatic expressions on their faces as each occurrence was exposed. By the time James got to Marly's appearance in the morning, Sirius was practically writhing with emotion.

"Are you _joking_ me?" he almost wailed. "_Seventeen hours_ in that dark cupboard and she didn't let you fuck her even _once_?!"

"Forget fucking her, I never even kissed her," James said, hoping not to sound too disappointed by his lack of proper romance in the cupboard. "Not until she kissed me, at which point we were both extremely drunk and irresponsible for our actions."

"How can that _be_?!" Sirius fumed. "You had ample opportunity; why the hell did you waste it?!"

"I didn't want to be some kind of a rapist, Sirius," James decided reasonably. "If she didn't want me, I didn't want to do anything to compromise her. I was happy talking to her, squeezing stuff out of her, but she wasn't willing to be honest – she wanted me to do all the sharing. Obviously, issues arose, and then after snogging me for a good portion of the night, she turns around and tells me I'm treating her like a little kid!"

"Eh, well, if you look at it in the be-sensitive-and-understand-the-girl kind of way, you sort of were, Prongs," Sirius admitted, letting go of his morbid curiosity for a moment and allowing his wild eyes to calm down so he could be somber. "You should know better when it comes to Lily Evans. She hates it when people try to be there for her; you remember her breakup with Preston Daniels last year around Christmas, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," James said. "He wanted to do more than hold her hand after being with her a year and she fell through. She was miserable."

"She's got a commitment issue, mate, you ought to let her be," Sirius advised. "If you think you're the magic man, you're wrong. She probably won't speak to you again."

"Well, on James's defense, Lily's behavior last night seemed to suggest otherwise," Remus interjected. "He had a right to do what he did, and I think he should just wait for the storm to blow over – she'll come around."

"I'm with Sirius on this one," Peter said definitively. "She told you she didn't want you, so take her to her word. Give her time to regret it and let _her_ come to _you_. You've done enough with coming to her."

"Good man, Pete," Sirius said, clapping Peter on the back and making him beam. "You ought to do it that way – make _her_ change _her_ ways. My best mate changes for no woman!" He banged his fist impressively on a nearby table.

"I don't want to change for her completely, Sirius, but small changes are kind of necessary when you're in a relationship," James said thoughtfully. "You're not just pleasing yourself anymore – you're pleasing a whole different person, too."

"If she's not happy with you as you are, she's mad," Sirius decided. "Do Wormy's plan, it's a good one."

"It actually is," Remus agreed, making Peter swell with pride. "Clearly, she's got more than just a commitment issue to settle, and she has to do it on her own. You can't hassle her. As you've seen already, she doesn't appreciate it, even when you do it with the best of intentions."

"I wanted to do that, but you know me," James said with a wry smile.

"Unfortunately, we do, Prongsie," Sirius said affectionately, punching James's arm. "You're one hell of an emotional lug when it comes to Evans."

James punched his friend back, laughing. "And you're one hell of a woman-expert when I need you," he said, grinning. "So are you, Wormy – surprisingly."

Peter smirked, and punched James's other arm. "I can be incredibly sensitive if I need to be."

"Scores of witty remarks came to my head right now, but I won't say any of them because I'm a kind citizen," Sirius announced, his eyes twinkling in a way that did not enhance his goodness.

"Oh, what an amazing ickle Good Samaritan you are," James said affectionately, now putting his arm around Sirius's shoulder. "Thanks, you lot – I suppose I'll do that, then."

"Good man." Sirius nodded resolutely and jokingly shook the arm away. "Now what say you to a butterbeer binge before class? We have ten minutes – plenty of time for a couple of bets."

"I'm game," Peter volunteered. "I have yet to beat Prongs – you only beat me by a mug and a half last time!"

"What little you did have must have gotten to your head, Wormy," James said, shaking his head with a grin. "I beat you by at least three."

"It was two," Remus told them.

"Five and a half!" Sirius insisted. "I remember teasing Pete the rest of the week!"

"You would have done that regardless of how much butterbeer he had," Remus pointed out. "It's a moot point."

Sirius considered this, and sulked when he reached his conclusion. "I suppose…"

"It was a mug and a half," Peter said with a note of finality. "But if you don't believe me, perhaps we should test it out – now."

Sirius let out a very dog-like noise of approval. "C'mon, Prongsie – lets preserve your title as second-best, shall we?"

"Great," James agreed. "Then by tomorrow, the spot will be all warmed up for you when I drink you into a head-spin."

"Oh, you're on, James Potter." Sirius's handsome face was alive with competition. "Now we have to go drink fast; McGonagall's going to have my arse if I get another detention for being late."

"Since when has that ever bothered you?" James asked.

"Good point," Sirius said with a chuckle. "But c'mon!"

The four boys immediately got up, Lily Evans and James's internal concerns already forgotten in entirety, and raced to the portrait hole, eager to get to the kitchens before all their time ran out; Peter and Sirius quickly resumed their argument on how many more mugs of butterbeer James had drunk, while Remus tried his best to be the voice of reason and James watched all of their progress, utterly amused.

Perhaps James hadn't had the heart-to-hearts with his friends that he had half-desired during his story, but at least he had managed to secure a worthy solution and a diversion to help him keep the solution going. When it came to his ever-helpful Marauders, what more could he possibly ask for?

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**A/N: If you didn't know, 'Quieres una noche de amor conmigo' means, when translated word for word, 'Do you want a night of love with me?' Go figure, lol.**


	44. Failure to Pry

**A/N: HOLY SHIT-CAKES, I HAVE OVER A THOUSAND REVIEWS ON THIS STORY!! Damn guys, that's pretty fucking amazing – and you know I'm stoked when I start swearing like a rap star!! Gawd, go eat yourselves sick on some goddamned cookies, because I fucking love you like mad!!**

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After Lily told Marly as brief a tale of the broom cupboard incident as she could, leaving out most of the "particulars" but giving her most of the big picture, she sincerely regretted it – because once Marly got a sketch of the big things they did, she insisted that Lily was denying her "obvious and utterly lusty feelings" towards James by pathetically avoiding him.

And, as was to be expected, she would not leave Lily alone in her persistent attempt to get her best friend to talk more in-depth upon this subject.

Knowing this tactic all too well, Lily answered her persistence by steadily avoiding the subject of James Potter, and didn't come out better for it – her silences were moody, her words even more so, and she looked increasingly tired, in class and when hanging around with her mates. It didn't, by any means, discourage the undaunted Marly, but it did cause a bit of anxiety – particularly when Marly spilled the beans about the cupboard to their other friend, Alice Prewitt.

"Lils, you've really not been yourself for a couple of days now," Alice noted the second evening as the three of them lounged about in the empty girl's dormitory after dinner, pretending to do their homework on their beds. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing really," Lily said, hoping to sound off-hand as she turned a page in her Transfiguration textbook. "Why?"

"You're not talking to us much," Marly clarified, not bothering to look down at her book and leaving her gaze on Lily. "When you're staring out into space, you look kind of sad. And you're looking through your Transfiguration textbook when she told us to practice that impossible spell we tried to learn today in class that was _not _in our books."

"Oh, right," Lily mumbled, putting the offending book away and sighing as she settled more comfortably on her covers. "I forgot."

"Are you thinking about James again?" Alice asked comfortingly, her eyes filled with sympathy. Alice was of the same opinions on the James matter as Marly – and also like Marly, she was less than subtle when she attempted to worm a conversation out of Lily.

Exhaling roughly at this predictability, Lily then said rather sharply, "No, I'm not thinking about James. Why in the name of Merlin would I be thinking of James? He hasn't even looked at me for two days."

Indeed he hadn't. It caused her more anxiety than she cared to express to her friends; an enormous bubble, similar to the ones she made with blowing gum, propelled in her stomach and exploded inside of her every time she thought about him.

"Why do you think that is, Lils?" Marly asked, intrigued somehow, seeming ready for a bit of direct girl-to-girl-to-girl evening discussion as she pushed her books aside. "I thought he would have talked to you by now. He's usually only mad for about twenty-four hours."

"Except the time he lasted a day and a half," Alice reminded her, pushing her own books away as well. "Do you remember that? He spent all his free time in the kitchens talking the house-elves into letting him bake a cake by hand for Lily. He brought it up in the evening and she let Sirius eat it because she was still mad at him for whatever he did."

"Oh yeah!" Marly laughed. "Last year, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Alice said, giggling as well.

"Ho, ho, ho," Lily said sarcastically, glowering at the two of them. "Now don't make me out to be such a wretch – it was a terrible-looking cake, probably toxic, and Sirius was the only one brave enough to accept it. That thing took even _his_ infallible stomach for a spin; he had to visit Madam Pomfrey for an hour to get it washed out. I would have died if I had it."

"But he made it just for you," Alice said, batting her eyelashes. "It was so sweet! I'd _love _it if Frank took so much trouble to bake _me_ a cake."

"Then you should take James, because I don't want him," Lily said stubbornly. "He's…he's a nightmare! I never know what to do with him!"

"Funny, because _we _know what you ought to do with him," Marly said, gesturing to her and Alice.

"Yes – you ought to take him back to that broom cupboard and snog the bloody hell out of him," Alice said, giggling. "All that unresolved sexual tension…Merlin, you'd be in there for a week!"

Lily refused to laugh. "We don't have _unresolved sexual tension_. We have unresolved tension in general." She had no idea why this last sentence came out so bitterly remorseful, but Marly was quick to pounce on her nonetheless.

"And whose fault is that, Flower dearest?" Marly's smile was sweetly sympathetic. "Honest – you should talk to him."

"You should," Alice agreed. "I don't know James very well, but I could bet you everything I own that he's waiting for _you _to be the one to reconcile."

"Why would he want _me _to do it?" Lily wondered, frustrated. "He said he was done with me."

"He was lying," Marly said with such certainty Lily almost believed her. "And he knows fully well you're not done with him yet."

"But I am!" Lily tried to say.

"You're not," Alice assured her. "You love him!"

"You love him like crazy," Marly added.

"He's just too nice to sweep you off your feet without your permission," Alice explained. "He's more than told you he cares about you – now the rest is up to you."

"And I say no," Lily said.

"You _think _you say no," Marly corrected. "But if you think hard enough, you know as well as he does that you don't."

Alice's smile had turned rather bittersweet. "Somehow, somewhere, you managed to fall deeply in love with James Potter…and you don't even know it. Do you have any idea how many girls would kill to have him look at them the way he looks at you?"

"Give me their names and I'll use them as shields," Lily muttered, going pink.

"He doesn't want them," Marly told her. "For reasons he hasn't shared with us, he's set on _you_, and although he can make do with anyone, _you _are the one he wants. Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"It's puppy love," Lily said, running her hand through her hair tiredly. "I'm only good for the chase; but once the chase is over, he won't care about me anymore. I'll be another one of his smiley little girlfriends, and once he finds another girl who's Potter-resistant, I'll be old news." The words felt quite passé on her lips, but she knew them to be true, despite the groans she received from her friends.

"That's the most childish, and romance-story-clichéd fear I've ever heard in my life," Marly declared. "James Potter is going to be the last person in the world to dump you! You watch, he's going to love you for the rest of his life, and you're going to love him back; you should act on it and admit what you're feeling before you lose more time."

"I don't trust him, nor am I going to tell him I love him – because I don't," Lily persisted, exasperated.

"You completely do," Marly said, her eyes lively but her tone stern. "Seriously! When you go and kiss the boy like you know you should, you're going to wonder why you hadn't done it before – that's how fated you are. And when that moment comes, I swear to you, you're going to be thinking, 'Thanks, Marly, for locking me in that broom cupboard and letting me open my eyes to how absolutely delicious this creature is, even though I was ungrateful right at that moment.' You watch."

"Yeah, of course," Lily said with a snort. "I'll keep you posted."

"And here's another thing I've noticed," Alice threw in. "For the two days since you've been out of that cupboard, you've started putting your hand through your hair like he does."

Lily looked scandalized now – and extremely bewildered. "I have not!"

"You have!" Marly realized, exciting herself as she looked eagerly to both girls. "Yes, Lily, do it again, do it again, put your hand in your hair!"

"No, this is utterly ridiculous," Lily groaned as she did so unconsciously. Marly and Alice exchanged excited glances.

"See?" Alice said. "That's _exactly _how James does it! _Exactly_, down to the way you sort of rumple it in the back before taking your hand out!"

"No," Lily denied, now slightly horrified. "No, you're completely mistaken; I've been doing that for years before I met James!"

"It's one of his nervous habits," Marly said. "And right now, you're pretty damn nervous, since we're grilling you on truth you don't want to hear. Do you see it? You've even picked up the tendency of his you used to hate the most!"

"I only hated it because it was so arrogant and because he thought it looked cool to look like he'd come out of a windstorm," Lily said, her tone hardening to become business-like and emotionless. "His hair was fine without him messing it up."

"Oh, so you _liked _his hair?" Alice inquired. "Is that why you're copying the way he styles it?"

"I never said that," Lily said at once, her tone the same.

Marly's laugh was short-lived and almost like a sigh. "Face it, Lils…you're in love. Can you say it for us? Plainly?"

"Yeah, just say, 'I love James Potter' and we'll be more than happy," Alice said.

"No," Lily said curtly. "I don't lie."

"Well, you're trying to sell us one hell of a lie right now, so I'd rethink that thought," Marly said with a shrug. "C'mon, Lil; saying it will help you accept the truth."

"It's not truth," Lily said harshly. "It's the product of many teenage minds who were bored with the traditional school romances and decided to brainwash the only girl who kept herself well out of their activities. James Potter never loved me, and he never will; the feeling is mutual. He can say it all he likes, _you _can say it all you like, but you're never going to get me to 'accept' it. Now if you'll excuse me, I am retiring to the bathroom for a shower and I don't want to revisit this topic again, all right? I've given my opinions, so have you, and that should be enough for the three of us."

Lily then rose to her feet, her expression stormy, and abandoned her best friends and books as she stalked off to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of pajamas from her drawer as she went. Marly and Alice exchanged looks as the door slammed shut and the water began running inside; clearly, their meant-to-be-motivating conversation had not gone exactly to plan.

"Do you think she's going to do it?" Alice asked Marly, closing her unused books and tucking them away into her bag. "Talk to him, I mean?"

"She's got to," Marly said almost desperately. Then she rethought this, and said a little more carefully, "I know Lily extremely well by now, and I know that despite what she's said, she knows we're right, and she'll do what she has to do. Give her another couple of days; she can't stay away from James Potter, and if she somehow can, we know _he _can't live without _her_. One of them will break…but my bet's on Lily."

"What a dismal way to lose a bet," Alice muttered. "Those two are hopeless – and Lily's the most hopeless."

"Yeah, they're pretty hopeless," Marly said, her eyes faraway, "but all the best couples are. And they're the best you're probably ever going to find."


	45. Just Giving It Up

**A/N: This chapter, I won't lie, is me building tension and bridging to the finale. So, it's like a filler, but I dunno, I felt it was very necessary – hence, here it is, lol.**

**This chapter, and the next, are both heavily influenced by the song ****The Scientist****, by Coldplay. Listen to it while you read, if you like.**

**Oh, and by the way, one last thing: I just consulted one of my very good friends on the site, Anna (Jack.Sparrow.1245), on the final chapter (which means she read it before you lot did, hehe) – she suggested an epilogue and I took her advice. She read that one through for me too (ain't she lovely?) and I've decided to keep it.**

**Bottom line: I talk too much and you get an extra chapter! Yay!!**

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It had been three days since the fateful night Lily had stormed away from Alice and Marly in the dormitory.

Three very, _very_ long days.

And, finally, Lily had decided she was going to do it.

She was going to be the first to break and she was going to go to James Potter today, and she was going to talk to him. Talk to him as honestly as she talked to Alice and Marly – talk to him about the most tender of subjects.

Herself.

It had taken her three days to reach this decision, going from pure denial to a determined sort of _purpose_; but in the end, she reasoned, talking to him would be better than where they were at present.

The strange flutters in her stomach, the cool way with which he steadfastly ignored her, the saddened looks she kept getting from her friends…this stalemate of sorts, this queer ice rink of an impasse, was too much for her.

After the hours they had shared together in the dratted broom cupboard – after what they said, what they did, what they thought, what they felt – it was impossible for her to bear this excruciating distance.

She still didn't believe she loved him, as the rest of the school (including her traitorous friends) was convinced she did, but she did now believe that they had some matters to settle together – matters from the cupboard and otherwise.

And that was why today, on this sluggish, restless Sunday afternoon, she was going to make her move.

She had not told Alice or Marly about her plan, or about the strange thoughts that had been passing through her mind lately, but she had already decided she would the moment she was finished talking to James. There had been so much going on inside of her that she couldn't explain, irreversible shifts in the terribly dramatic stream of her nature, and she figured results would explain her feelings better than words would.

This was a private battle she was fighting – it was not for them to know about. It was one of the few aspects in her life she had to settle with only the other person involved.

That is, if he let her.

Lily had not forgotten the cold way with which he had told her he was finished with her, that early morning in the broom cupboard, nor had she forgotten the indifferent cloud of his deeply hazel eyes that he was now using when he looked at her. They were things that were extremely difficult to forget, and she doubted he would speak to her if she approached him today.

People did not look at other people like that and then talk to them as though nothing had happened – this mission was, by no means, going to be as easy as Marly had assured her it would be.

But she knew she had to try.

So she did – she left her dormitory, where she had been reading a book and attempting to put this daunting task off for a few hours, and bounced down the stairs to the common room, her heart pounding madly as she did so. Several people were relaxing on the sofas there, but a quick sweep of the large room told her that none of them were James or his fellow Marauders. Blowing a strand of her hair out of her face with irritation, Lily approached Frank Longbottom, who was talking to Lily's ex-boyfriend, Preston Daniels.

"Oy, Frank," Lily said, ignoring Preston. "Do you know where Potter is? I need to find him."

"Erm, I don't know, Evans, I'm sorry," Frank said, looking genuinely up at her.

"I think he was in the library when I last saw him," Preston volunteered, his autumn eyes lighting with his recollection.

"Is he?" Only now did Lily look to the blonde-haired boy next to Frank. "Are you sure, Daniels?"

"Yeah, I saw him heading that way about an hour ago with Sirius Black," Preston confirmed. "Your best bet is the library."

"The library, then," Frank concluded with a half-smile.

"Okay, thanks Frank, Daniels," Lily said, giving each a nod and a small, tight smile. Once Frank looked to Preston to resume their conversation, she excused herself from the common room, almost trampling poor Mary Macdonald on her way out of the portrait hole. Afraid she would lose her determination if she dawdled her way down, she quickened her pace as she raced through corridor after corridor, with eyes only for the library.

However, as she went, she happened to run straight into a tall someone as she turned a corner, and they both toppled to the floor with shouts of astonishment.

"I'm so, _so _sorry," Lily said, scrambling to her feet and offering her hand down to the boy she had crashed into. "I…I was just…"

She was about to say she was trying to go to the library, but before she could, she realized she had run into none other than Sirius Black – who was looking rather disgruntled.

"Sorry, Sirius," she resolved to say, blushing as Sirius accepted her hand and heaved himself to a standing position, brushing himself off.

"You ought to be more careful, huh, Evans?" Sirius responded, eyebrows raised. "You're quite the escaped firework, aren't you?"

"I was…looking for Potter," she admitted sheepishly, blushing deep pink. "Frank Longbottom and Preston Daniels told me he was in the library."

"So you were _running _to find him?" Sirius rubbed his chin contemplatively. "You know, there was a time when dear Jamie would have died five times over with delight to know something like that."

Blushing even more, she tucked her hair behind her ear, and asked, "Well, I need to talk to him about something; do you know where he is?"

"Frankie boy was right about us being in the library, but James and I left there, clearly," Sirius said, absently scratching his head. "Erm…we stopped over in the kitchens for a couple of minutes…I bet he's coming, because I came out first."

Sirius peered over her head then, and grinned. "Oh, and speak of the devil, there he is!" He waved James over to himself and Lily, while Lily looked with hopefully-hidden apprehension as the boy she'd been thinking incessantly about drew near them.

"Hello Prongsie, we were just talking about you," Sirius said pleasantly as James took in the sight of the two of them, his eyes wary when they rested on Lily.

"Were you?"

"Yep," Sirius said, nodding proudly. "Evans here wanted a word with you. She came hurtling down the corner there in her haste to locate you."

James's eyebrows were suddenly in danger of disappearing into his hairline. "Is that so?"

"Yep," Sirius confirmed again, his grin wide. "Now I'll leave you two at it then, shall I? I have much more important matters to deal with than your ickle love story." He winked as he saluted James and left the scene with a "Good luck!" shouted over his shoulder.

Lily yearned to shake her head with exasperation; how typically and tactlessly Sirius.

However, she didn't – she simply kept her gaze solidly at James, daring him to break his streak of the past five days and look at her.

It took him a good thirty seconds to do so, when he finally did, the coolness back into his otherwise warm eyes.

"Hey," he said, his tone purposefully dead-pan without his usual cheek.

"Hey," Lily said back, shifting uncomfortably now, her heart about to pound its way out of her body altogether at the rate it was going.

"You wanted a word?"

"I did," she confirmed, tucking her hair behind her ear and then running her hand through her hair.

"Okay," said James. "What about?"

"D-do you want to take this to some place a bit more…I dunno, appropriate?" she suggested, gesturing around them. "We're in the middle of a corridor."

"All right, where do you suggest we go?" He was so serenely calm – not at all the turbulent, high-spirited youth she had gotten used to.

"I dunno," Lily said, getting more and more flustered by the moment. "Like…to an empty classroom, o-or something like that? Somewhere private?"

"Lead the way," he suggested with little emotional change in his tone, jerking his head behind Lily. His face was startlingly unruffled – almost like stone with the tiniest shimmers of light if one knew exactly where to look.

However, something about the way he was talking to her annoyed Lily – James had every right not to be warm and fuzzy with her after the past few days, but this, to her, was pushing it. Her eyes narrowed, she put her hands to her hips – a surefire sign of a defiant temper tantrum – and she asked, "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," he said, all too innocently. "Why?"

Lily pursed her lips, her expression frustrated, but she let her hands drop and then twirl her hair between her fingers. "No reason," she decided to say eventually, her own voice rather tart in response. "No reason at all…c'mon, then, I think there's a classroom down that way."

"Fine," James said, the least possible inflection in his voice to suggest his sarcasm. "Let's go."

Biting hard on her lower lip to keep herself from saying something she would most likely live to regret, she faced him with a determinedly composed face, and she said curtly, "Yes, Potter. Let's go."

And with this, and her heart continuing to beat erratically at the prospect of this sure-to-be-awkward conversation she herself so foolishly felt she should initiate, she turned on her heel and stalked off to the empty classroom that she was sure she had passed as she sprinted down this corridor.

She didn't look back to make sure James was behind her, but instinctively, she knew that despite his rotten mood, he was going to hear her out. He wasn't going to leave her hanging as she half-feared he would – he simply wasn't the type.

Still, to be positive, she turned and quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure he was following her.

Sure enough, he was – his eyes locked in straight to the back of her head and now locked into her own, the set of his mouth indicating a few words of his own that he was holding back with minor difficulty.

She turned her head back to face forward, but she slowed her pace down to walk beside him rather than remaining ahead of him:

For whatever reason, this was one trip she wanted to make by his side rather than before him; without his solid weight by her and assuring her he was here to fix things as she was, she wasn't sure if she could convince herself to follow through with this any longer.


	46. Mysterious and Emotional Females

**A/N: Sorry for all these cruel cliffies, darlings…but the big scene has been split into two chapters, of which this is the first. Enjoy, and please do review!**

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When they reached the empty classroom, and Lily had closed the door behind both her and James, Lily strode over to the teacher's desk in the front and perched herself on it, her legs dangling off the end. James, following her example, sat on top of one of the few uncovered student desks directly in front of Lily, his eyes virtually unchanged from what they were outside.

"So…what's up?" he asked Lily aimlessly, his tone betraying the interested quality of his query.

"I-I just wanted to…to apologize, for what happened in the broom cupboard," Lily stuttered bluntly, keeping her eyes level with his with immense effort. "It…it was slightly uncalled for, on my part, and…and I shouldn't have said any of that."

James blinked a couple of times, digesting her words, and then nodded once. "It's fine," he said, his tone too precise and cautious for her liking.

"Well, obviously it's not, so I thought I'd…you know, I thought I'd get that out there, s-so you know how I feel," said Lily. "I know you're mad at me, and I know you probably don't want to be here right now, but there you go – I said what I had to say, and there's nothing else I can do to make you feel any better."

"I appreciate it," he said, although his eyes were now becoming troubled.

"Then why are you looking at me like that?" she couldn't restrain herself from asking, her own eyes matching his intensity.

"What do you mean?" he asked ever so harmlessly, the emotion mixed into his irises not changing although she could sense he was trying.

Exhaling with frustration, her eyes on the floor as she turned her cheek towards him, she chewed on her lower lip once more and said mutinously, "Nothing. I don't mean anything. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He watched her seethe on the desk where she was sitting, making no move to come towards her, before he said quickly, embarrassedly, "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…"

"No, it wasn't," Lily snapped, her face coming to meet him again, her eyes hinting at her easy flame. "You can take my apology for suggesting a truce along with my first one, if you like."

"You can't blame this on me," he said, a flame glinting in his own eyes though now his tone was perfectly controlled and not the slightest bit sullen anymore.

"I sure as hell can," argued Lily. "What are you playing at, honestly? You…you're impossible! Here I am, trying to make things right, and you're sitting here in front of me like a child deprived of candy!"

"Yes, of course, because you're so _perfect_, and I am nothing but trouble, correct?" His nostrils flared – _his _surefire sign for a tantrum of his own.

"In this case, I'm the one in the right, while you're in the wrong," Lily proclaimed candidly, something dark flashing behind her bright eyes. "I'm clearing this up – I'm trying to bridge things between us."

"Saying sorry isn't going to make everything peachy between us, if that was what you were expecting with all your _gracious_ intentions," James shot at her, his modulation on the word 'gracious' making the word sound positively indecent.

"I didn't expect things to be peachy, but I didn't expect you to treat me like some sort of untrustworthy recluse," Lily countered, her voice rising some. "All I did to you was apologize; what more do you want me to do? Kiss your feet and tell you how much I _love_ you?"

"No," James said heatedly, rather incensed by her inflection on the word 'love.' "The only thing I've ever seriously wanted from you was…for you to _mean _it."

"Mean what?" Disarmed as she was by this statement, Lily wasn't going to let him get away with softening her; she kept her face as hard as it was before.

"Merlin, Lily, _everything_," he burst out. "Whenever I talk to you, you say one thing, and then the next time I talk to you, you say something else! It's infuriating!"

"I do not," Lily retorted vehemently. "I am perfectly honest, and I sure as hell mean whatever I say to you."

"You don't," he insisted. "In the broom cupboard, you were being _nice _to me. Deny it all you like, but you know you were. And you know what? I loved every second of it. I loved how you decided to trust me and be a real person, instead of your usual hothead-self. But, the moment we woke up in the morning and you didn't have a place to hide from me, your whole perspective on me changed, and I didn't know how much of the previous evening was real and how much of it was wine-induced. How is that meaning what you say?"

"Well, to put your mind at ease, let me clarify some things for you," she snapped. "The flirting? That was all wine-induced. The conversation? Merlin, James, that was just me being _polite_, because I was stuck with you for seventeen hours and I was trying to help it along as smoothly as I could. Being polite doesn't mean anything."

"With _other _people, it doesn't mean anything," he corrected. "But with _you_…Lily, when it comes to you, politeness means acceptance, and you have always had the biggest problem accepting me."

"You're ridiculous," Lily wrote him off. "You're completely and utterly ridiculous; you just can't stand the fact that I don't feel the way you want me to feel, and you won't rest until you _make _me love you. But, James, you can't _make _me do anything – you're trying your best, but you can't change the way I feel. Give up."

James sighed, mournful and frustrated and impatient and plenty of other related feelings, and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand for a moment or two, before looking up at Lily. All pretense of calmness that had been in attendance for the past few minutes had vanished completely as he looked as earnestly at her as he ever had.

"All right then, fine, do you want to know why I work so hard trying to probe you?" he asked her.

"Yes, an answer would be very, very good," Lily said defiantly, again refusing to soften under his sincere gaze. "You've never given me one that made sense."

"Okay." James swallowed, running his fingers through his hair again, and presently said, "Okay…see, the thing is, Lily, for as long as I've known you, you've been something of a mystery to me."

"A mystery?" Lily couldn't help but wrinkle her nose slightly at this portrayal of herself – she had never been one for tacky romance-novel-worthy descriptions.

"A mystery," he confirmed, ignoring her skeptical reaction. "And you were a mystery I wanted to solve, because you were just so _different _from other girls I was friends with. You were intriguing."

"So I was right," she said bitterly. "I was only good for the chase, wasn't I." She didn't say it as a question; she said it as the statement she had taught herself to believe for such a long time.

He paused. "At first, yeah, it was for the chase."

"I knewit," she said, her tone low and incensed as she almost flung the words out at him. "I _knew _it, since the very beginning, that it was only a shallow interest you had in me." The idea of being nothing but a thrill ride for this boy seemed to cut into her, a blade made and sharpened by an idea she realized only now she hadn't really fully accepted, and although she vaguely knew why this bothered her, she had no wish to explore it.

Not yet. Not when she had to restrain herself from fully throttling him.

Seeing this, James reached forward and grabbed her hand in his own. "Listen to me," he said urgently.

"No!" she shouted at him, jerking her hand away in black fury. "No, no, no!"

"Lily, _listen _before you forget to hear me out," he repeated.

"What do I need to listen to?" she demanded, rising to her feet. "You've told me old news – I mean nothing to you. I'm a golden trophy to place on your shelf, made to show off your greatness to the rest of the disbelieving world. I'm nothing more than that to you, aren't I? Just another girlfriend to add to the list – another name to mention, another number to boast, another notch for your bedpost. Isn't that right?"

"Not anymore," he said determinedly. "Not since fifth year. Not since I got my head down from the clouds and realized you are so, _so _much more than another girl. Not since…I really fell for you."

"But, see, that's the thing; you never fell for me," she dismissed him resentfully.

"You've got to trust me here, Lily, because I swear to you, you will regret it if you don't," he told her seriously. "Honest…when Preston Daniels broke up with you last year, it was like seeing you for the first time. Instead of being your usual fireball, which had attracted me from the beginning, you were so broken – and you were beautiful for it. I…I dunno, it sounds awful when I say it like that, but your vulnerability when put next to your undoubted strength…it shocked me, but in a good way. A very good way – the best way possible, really. I've never felt like that before, and suddenly, you were the only one I could think about. And then I knew you were it, you were the one I wanted, and that the chase no longer meant anything to me."

He took a breath and released her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've tried, but I could never really see myself with anyone but you. It was only ever you."

Lily chewed at her lip, feeling the hardness she'd built up against him crumble like a sand castle under a gentle tidal wave – her heart was racing like a horse in a derby, the back of her neck damp and sticky with sweat, and she felt like the most undesirable person in the world as he said this to her. No girl would be worthy of these words, if she thought on it hard enough; no girl was ever worthy of James Potter, because he had the unnerving ability to rattle a girl to the point where she wondered if she was some kind of goddess under his attention.

It was enough to take anyone's world by the tail and turn it upside down in intolerable loops.

Swallowing thickly, Lily moistened her mouth and tucked her hair behind her ear, her expression shifting and changing with upheaval only she was famous for possessing. She was getting so nervous; the carefully-constructed rules of her world had been shattered like a dish thrown to the floor, and now she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, say, look at.

So she looked at him – she looked at him long and hard as he looked right back at her, neither gaze dropping as they seemed to reread the other, rememorize the people they thought they had known but actually hadn't.

And it was here – here, in this fierce competition of staring, in this solitary bubble of new enlightenment which she shared with him, emotion running rampant through her body – that the single epiphany she had spent years avoiding with every fiber she had in her:

In her own strange, convoluted, twisted sort of way, Lily Evans discovered that she did indeed love James Potter, and now, between the second of initial revelation and the second of comprehension, she couldn't flee. She couldn't think; she could barely even breathe.

She loved him, from the moment he pulled her hair in first year, touched her hand in third year, tried to kiss her in fourth year, rowed with her through fifth year, swore at her in the cupboard, told he cared about her, kissed her in a state of drunken ecstasy before possibly making love to her. She'd loved him through all of it – because he was the only one who could ever make her feel the way he did.

As though she was special. As though she was on fire in the most striking, turbulent sense of the word.

As though, for those moments he was with her, she was everything.

Oh Merlin, she honestly loved him, didn't she?

Her stomach plummeted at once, her chest cavity seemed to melt, leaving her frantic heart completely unprotected, and the whole world appeared to fall apart, just for this moment, as she tried, in slow motion, to take this all in.

When she found she couldn't, she did the only thing she could truly do – she pursed her lips, went into her most passive position hugging her knees on the surface of the desk, and said quietly, "I think we need to talk truthfully again."


	47. The Final Lightening Round

**A/N: I took pity on you and posted this on the same day. Nice of me, huh? So, anyway, this is the final confession, take six and a half…after rewriting this chapter so many times, this is probably the best version I've got (ending a story is hard work!), so I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it, lol.**

**A million and twenty thank you's to my lovely friend Anna (Jack.Sparrow.1245) for beta-ing this chapter for me (as well as suggesting the epilogue). I appreciate it intensely, darling!**

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Remembering how well this worked out the last time Lily had suggested this, James sighed with near defeat and said, "All right then, Lil, take it away – what do we have to talk so truthfully about?"

"About me. About the cupboard. About a few things Marly's been saying to me." Her eyes were rarely as passionate as they were at this moment. "About everything, really."

James waited, since he had nothing he could really say to this, and Lily cleared her throat, embarrassed and rather pink in the face.

"So…there's obviously a lot for me to say, but I don't know how much of it you'll want to hear," she said. "That's why we're going to play one last game of Truth – lightning round. Your turn to ask me as many questions as you've got. All right?"

"A final lightning round…" James rubbed his chin contemplatively. "I think that sounds fair. I mean, if you want to, that is."

"It's not a matter of wanting anymore," she told him. "So go ahead – I'm game."

"Okay," said James, sitting up a little straighter on his desk, his intense eyes on the girl in front of him. "Okay, first question out of the many burning ones I have…was your broom cupboard flirting real or not, Lils?"

Although she knew she should have suspected something like this, Lily still started slightly at the ready bluntness of his inquiry. James was never one to beat around the bush – it was almost frightening sometimes.

However, she cleared her throat nonetheless, and said slowly, thinking aloud because she couldn't trust herself to edit the whole answer on the spot, "Erm…if by real you mean honest-to-goodness, trying-to-seduce-you flirting, then no, it wasn't. It…I dunno, I wasn't _trying _to flirt, but I suppose I got a little too confident that I was handling myself decently enough in your presence, and reacted. The later flirting was encouraged by the alcohol though; I tend to do that when I'm drunk."

"Interesting, very interesting," he said, surveying Lily as though he had never seen anything quite like her before.

Which, in all honesty, he hadn't.

Lily, though, only flushed a little and waited. Intrigued, James's eyes glimmered and he asked, "Hmmmm…next question then! The thought on my mind _now _is this…why did you freak on me, that morning when we woke up? It was fairly contradictory, you know?"

"Yeah, that…" Lily cleared her throat, and then coughed for good measure. "James, honestly, think of how it must have looked to me – you had more recollections of our actions than I did, and I woke up blank, and in your arms, of all places! I was tired, confused, hung-over, and disoriented; I didn't know what to think. Things were tumbling on me all at once, and well, it was too much for a single person to cope with on the spot. _You _may have found me contradictory, but I thought I was perfectly justified in freaking out on you – I'm nowhere near as headstrong as you are when it comes to moving a relationship forward."

His eyes were indecipherable, but his next question came much faster than the previous one had. "Why did you freak on me after I told you about Janey, too? You've had quite the track record for freaking out, regardless of the headstrong issue."

Here, Lily faltered for the first time, swallowing thickly as she determinedly avoided James's eyes and looked to the floor. This was going to be the hardest question for her to answer, and she knew it, but she also knew that this was the one James wanted to know about the most. She had to continue – somehow.

"That…that was the result of things going very quickly for me," Lily murmured quietly, bringing her knees up to her chest. "I mean…Merlin, how do I put this?…erm…honestly, James, we weren't in that cupboard for all that long, and already, you were telling me about your first s-sex, so frankly and almost eagerly, as if you _wanted_ me to get all the details you could spare for me. It overwhelmed me. You said you trusted me, and honestly, that was the last thing I wanted to hear."

Her gaze rose to his legs with fleeting courage. "I didn't want to know about how much you trusted me…how much I meant to you. I didn't see any reason for you to feel that way. It had been months since we'd spoken to each other, and you had barely changed – you were still open and ready to embrace me as though I'd never done anything wrong, as though you were picking up where we last left off, which was healing our wounds from the end of fifth year."

Her gaze went to his chest, her bravery flaring a little bit more inside of her. "I was thinking to myself, how could you want that? How could you want _me_ still? I didn't feel ready for your trust, or your love, and the fact that you were more than happy to drop it on my head like a waterfall frightened me. I snapped, and I withdrew, because more than anything, I wanted to get to know you better before I even tried thinking about a romantic relationship."

She was all the way up to his shoulders now, a great achievement considering how little Lily wanted to look into his face. Something in her had changed – by some means, words and phrases were constructing themselves at top speed in her head, words he hadn't asked directly for but needed all the same, and she felt the sudden, dire need to express them.

So, clearing her throat and strengthening her voice, she continued, nearly thinking aloud, "Ever since we were kids, I think we started nearer to the end of the love cycle – with the flirting, the tension, the people recognizing how we belonged together. I've never wanted that. I'm so cautious when it comes to dating someone, which was why Preston Daniels broke it off with me – I go slow, and take the time to get to know the person as well as I know myself, because I want to be absolutely sure the person loves me enough to let me take my own speed. You…you were everything but a slow pedestrian on such matters. You rushed headfirst into things, you thought you knew everything you needed to know, and you didn't. Worse, you didn't want to listen to me when I told you so, and being the 'hothead' you refer to me as, I gave up on you."

Now – and only now – Lily finally let her vision fill with the indecipherable palette of James's face, shyness bringing a fresh wave of pink to her skin as she paused and then said, "But, through the drenched dinner, the piss, the wine, the fire, the arguments, the laughter, the Truth, and the general craziness of that cupboard, I dunno…you came alive for me, James, and at that time particularly, I felt things I didn't want to identify, but should have."

She took one last brief stop, and moistened her mysteriously dried lips with her tongue before she finished, "I think…I think I actually did manage to fall for you as Marly always said I would and I thought I wouldn't…and if I had been smart enough to realize it, we would have had this conversation much earlier, and…I'm sorry it took me so long to figure everything out. It wasn't easy being locked in a broom cupboard with you for seventeen straight hours without a bathroom, really…"

James continued to sit on the desk where he was when the last of her words had left off into silence, still staring at her with the unfathomable set of his features on his face, and he was struck speechless for several minutes. Taking his cue, since she had nothing more she could say either, Lily stared back at him, and watched him watch her, study her, take everything about her in.

By the way he was looking at her, even forever would not have been enough.

But, in time, when the earth had most likely exploded and cooled and exploded again just for the hell of it, James opened his mouth as though he had something to say, and then asked very hesitantly, "So…do you mean to say that…that you were made to feel quite nervous by my optimism in us, your perplexing actions were a way of saying you were feeling unconfidently about me, and that despite all this, you have deduced that you like me after all?"

"Pretty much," Lily confessed sheepishly, her cheeks looking infected with all their redness. "I know, I know, it sounds completely demented, yet…"

"Yet here we are anyway," he concluded for her, his eyes flashing behind his glasses. "Admitting that after five and a half years, we've finally realized how we really feel about each other."

"Exactly," she said, pursing her lips as she came out of her protective stance and rested with much more relaxation on the desk.

"Wow," he said eventually, rubbing his chin contemplatively. "That's…something, Lily Flower. This morning, I woke up pondering my breakfast and how I was going to stop thinking about you, and now here you are a few hours later telling me you like me."

"Crazy, isn't it?" Lily almost laughed with his abrupt casualness. "It's almost improper…it doesn't make any sense…"

"I wasn't aware it had to." Now, James hopped off of the desk he had been sitting on, and approached the teacher's desk where Lily was still sitting, his eyes almost on fire. Leaning against the hard wood, he took Lily's hands and gathered them up in his own, his gaze never leaving hers. Chills ran through her body by his touch, and she felt her own eyes assuage down to the point of being almost naïve. Her heart just about gave out under the look he gave her.

"So…" he said, setting her hands down on her lap as one of his remained warm on her thigh while the other went to ever-so-softly caress her pale cheek. "So…I was right the whole time, was I?"

"Apparently you were," she responded, timidly taking the wrist of the arm reaching to her face and rubbing his fingers lightly.

"And you do love me," he said as she allowed his hand to drop down to her lap once more.

"I believe I do," she repeated, smiling slightly.

"And despite all the crazy insecurities you just listed for me, you're okay with the fact that I love you too?"

She closed her eyes, but only for a moment, letting this new and sudden lightness filter through her like honey in her bloodstream. "I…I think I'll get over them so long as you're very, very gentle."

He leaned in, and gently kissed the eyelids she had just closed, his lips softer than rose petals. "I think I can do that."

"So where does this leave us?" she asked as he held her at her waist and tenderly kissed his way down her cheek until he landed at her dainty chin.

"In my waiting arms, Lily Evans," he said, lifting her cleanly off the desk and pressing her firmly against him. "Where I currently want you to be."

"Honestly?" She was a tad incredulous as she surveyed him then. "James, I thought you were horribly angry with me; after not speaking me, after being 'done' with me, how can you possibly…I dunno…_take me away_ like this, all smiles and kisses?"

"Well, why not?" James's hazel eyes were ever so childlike as he looked at her. "I've loved you for years, I was only upset because you wouldn't tell me what's wrong, I waited a few days because I wanted to give you your space, and now I know what I needed to know. Why _shouldn't _I take you away with smiles and kisses?"

"It's…so matter-of-fact," she tried to say, still utterly blown away. "It was just…hostility, explanation, and then…right now, with no _reason _or _rationality _whatsoever. Can we really do that?"

"Sure we can," James said, a grin tugging at the corners of his full mouth. "I mean, unless you want me to take you outside of this classroom in my arms marriage-style, and I run around every corridor in the castle with you screaming at the top of my voice that I am now going to finally begin dating _the _Lily Evans, as Sirius puts it…"

Hastily, Lily interrupted him there and said, "No, no, that's not necessary."

"Right, I didn't think so," he said, his eyes twinkling impishly. "So I rightly figured you'd be one that preferred…I dunno…something along the lines of this."

And his mouth was still smiling, he kissed her ever so sweetly, keeping the motion of his lips gentle, graceful, nearly overwhelmingly magnificent; both were more than ready to continue it, but with some difficulty, Lily broke the kiss and said, musingly, "Hmmm, what do you know? Marly was right after all – thanks, Marbles."

"Huh?" James's expression was utterly confused. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind," Lily said laughingly, stroking his nose. "Come here."

And with this, she fastened herself to his shirt collar, and brought him down again to acquaint with her lips in a firm, dizzyingly beautiful kiss that if she had to, she never would have found the strength to stop.

They were here, now, present, together – his lips were warm and ever so lovely as they amorously glided along hers, his tongue and teeth nipping playfully at her lips as he held her close, his heat radiating onto and into her. His kiss was moist, tender, and had that typically teenage quality to it that suggested he was torn between wanting to take them everywhere at once and trying to savor it at the same time.

She didn't care though; all that concerned her was that regardless of every single thing they had done wrong for the longest time, they had done enough right to land themselves in this moment, in this kiss, in this empty classroom that suddenly seemed much more inviting than it had when they first walked in.

All the memories of the ungainly broom cupboard experience, all the memories of ungainly experiences from several years past – every one of them seemed to unfold with unexpected sweetness in her numbed mind. A low moan escaping her lips, she deepened their kiss with a sudden surge, and he was more than happy to oblige her.

The time of day, the responsibilities probably still left over for another hour, the friends who would demand explanations soon enough – none of it really mattered for now.

With the way both felt, this long-awaited kiss could have lasted them eternity in this otherwise vacant classroom…

…and maybe then some, too.

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**A/N: Remember – epilogue is next.**


	48. EPILOGUE: Fated Couples

**A/N: This is being told in Marly's POV, first person for the first time, because it wouldn't work in third. End-of-story speech is at the end there. Enjoy!**

* * *

When Lily walked back into the common room and smiled so widely, an enormously dreamy smile adorning her delicate features, I knew something had happened. Something big. Never, in all my years of knowing her, had Lily ever looked like that.

Obviously, I asked her what was up, and after some totally discreet and subtle (or perhaps loud and direct to the rest of the mortal world) probing, I found out that Lily had finally, finally, _finally _done what I knew she should've done all along.

She and James were a real, honest-to-Merlin _couple_! I couldn't be happier for my mad, self-blind best friend.

After many more hugs, squeals, and questions from me, I _had _to know what happened in the broom cupboard too – the real story, not the stupid, skimpy one Lils expected me to buy the first time – since it was directly relevant to getting together with James.

It took me a while, but I wore her down eventually and made her tell me everything. Everything she could remember – all the looks he gave her, all the words they said, all the stupid things he probably did for her. Every bit of it. I deserved to know what was going on in there! I orchestrated the plot myself, hadn't I?!

But, anyway, Lily's a good friend, so she did spill whatever details she still had, which were pretty plentiful – enough to give me a good sketch of this dramatic turn of events. Some of the things she said were spoken in a tone that was plainly supposed to make me feel bad, but honestly, I couldn't stop grinning the whole time.

Sure, I'd caused a bit of mayhem; but mostly, I'd caused a lot of priceless bonding between them and I couldn't be prouder of my nutty scheme.

If there was a grade for 'Matchmaking Fated Couples Together' in the N.E.W.T.'s, I'm sure I would have an O in the bag.

However, after some more discussion on the daft things Lily had done both in and out of that cupboard lately, the next pressing matter I needed to get information on was when their first "official" date was going to be. That was when Lily astonished me though; she made the astonishing announcement that she and James didn't actually intend to date yet.

_Didn't plan to date yet!!_

"Not now, not after all of this," the barmy girl had told me, sighing with that dreamy, far-off look she has. "For the moment, James and I have come to the conclusion that we are going to be proper _friends_ first."

I tried to tell her that they were _previously _friends, long-time friends, that Lily knew all she needed to know about him by this point at least, but I really had managed to befriend the most obstinate, inflexible ever to exist back in first year. Lily's firmly set stance on that matter is that one night, no matter how tumultuous, is not enough to fully comprehend every necessary complex each person possesses. She knows a lot, she at least acknowledged, but dating is out of the question until at least seventh year – the two of them were going to savor time and really feel comfortable before advancing their screwball relationship any further.

I must've looked pretty crestfallen by then, because Lily smiled very sweetly, and as if to soothe me, revealed that she did apprehend that she loved James intensely – much more than she could suitably explain – and she just didn't want to muck up something this good.

"It would be easy," she had explained thoughtfully, "because the passion has always been there. That part's easy. But the rest – the trust, the presence of mind, mutual confidences – that's all still premature. The only way to let it grow is to, well, know each other platonically before we get into the proper couple stuff; which, after recent events, I think we've got down pretty well already."

When she put it like that, how could I not agree?

So, Lily won that argument and hopped off to get her book bag, but as I began to do my own homework, I found myself oddly warm and at-peace with Lily's super-weird bond with James.

Maybe they're not shagging just yet, but I think that for now, that's okay. Being in that cupboard, regardless of what Lily may think, was probably the best thing that happened to her; they found each other (or, rather, Lily found James) and I think they got a good look at what they were up against with the other.

They both needed reality checks, when I really think on it; James had always been under the impression that Lily's pigheadedness and snappy behavior were feisty and desirable traits, and that her ability to become a fire-breathing dragon was cute, when actuality, he hadn't had a clue what she was about.

But on the other hand, Lily thought James was the worst thing that had happened to the world since Pandora's Box, and that his ability to goof off incessantly was a horrible drawback; but in actuality, she hadn't had a clue what he was about either.

Now, though, I think things are going to be all right.

From what Lily has revealed to me, they had a hell of a time together in that cupboard – and in some of the best ways possible too. The way I see it, this could be the beginning of a brilliant friendship; James is good for my lovely Lils, and she's even better for him.

They just _fit_; on their own, they're a bit left of center, sure, but together, I dunno…there's just something that goes off, some huge spark triggered from the most turbulent friction anyone's ever seen, and I can tell just like that that they're right.

I mean, really; when I think about it, there's no one else Lily could ever belong to, no one else who could take her for the crazy thing she is and make her as spirited as James does – for the better or for the worse.

By now, he understands her – not fully, no, but he does understand her better than any of the other boys at Hogwarts ever could. Even when she hated him, it was about him, always all about him, and without him, she doesn't know what she's supposed to do. She's wild, and without someone just as wild, she would fall apart.

And, when he's not pissing her off, James does make her happy.

It's as simple as that, and even though she won't admit it yet, she needs him – needs him like air in her lungs, sun in her eyes, chocolate in her intestines. She needs him because she loves him, and he's long made it clear he needs her just as badly. When a girl needs a guy, and the guy needs her back, they need to buck the hell up and get together, because being apart when you know you're fated is absolutely ridiculous – something Lily Evans has only just comprehended, bless her for her ignorance.

Plus, besides all that – how great would the name Mrs. Lily Potter look on her wedding invitations in a few years?!

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**A/N: Okay, so here's the speech I promised you…**

**Now, honestly, it has been the craziest nearly-three months that I've been writing this story – and I've really loved every second of it. This fic was quite a ride for me, and I hope it's been a pleasant one for you too. I do appreciate all your brilliant reviews, because whether you offered me some constructive criticism or told me you loved it or even just reminded me to update, it was nice to hear from you. I never dreamed this silly little cliché I decided to rework would ever get the attention it has received, and I love each and every one of you for getting a very juvenile, foolish smile to cross my face whenever I checked my reviews every chapter.**

**Seriously, you guys are the absolute best. I'd hug you all individually, but there are a whole host of problems with that I won't go into right now, lol.**

**I'm certainly going to miss updating Broom Cupboard everyday, because it has been a big motif on my summer so far, but it's always sad to let a story go; we'll all be okay. So, if you enjoyed this story and want to read something else, I've got plenty of other fics written (both multi-chaptered and not), and I'd love to hear from you again, if you were to take a peek through those.**

**Thanks again for everything, darlings, and feel free to keep in touch!!**

**X**

**Love always,  
****Zay**


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